The Fall of Spring

            My name is too difficult for you to say. Call me Lavenda. This is my final night of being alive. My children have spread across this land, and my life is near its end. I have until midnight of Hallows Eve to wander. Wander in human flesh, or as human as I may appear to look. Thankfully, my kind cannot be hounded or murdered as they once were on this night. Thankfully, the humans have grown to be so afraid of what goes bump in the night that they refuse to believe that there is anything there, in the dark, staring.

            I was a small flower, I had grown to my correct height, I lived my life fully, and now I get to join the humans and try their world. Just for a night. We all get this chance, on our last night of living, to live to our fullest in the form we wished we could have. Mine, obviously, was this. A small child had pressed their face against me one day, inhaled, and said I smelled as pretty as I looked. I hoped to find that child and thank them for the compliment.

            Wandering around for a few hours, seeing children dressed as super heroes, monsters, and fantasy creatures, I doubted I would see the child. It had been years, and when humans grow, they become unrecognizable. And in this sea of masks and paint, I knew for certain that I wouldn’t see that child again until we met again in the afterlife.

            Finding my way back to my home, an apartment complex in Reno, I started to feel tired, and wondered the time. I laid on the ground, in front of something called a mortuary, its grass cold and welcoming on my back. And then I heard a man lean over me, pick me up in his hands, and smell me. I could not open my eyes, I was going. But I heard him say, ‘Still smells as good as it looks.’

The Maiden Warrior

This isn't just some story, this is the story that they would all remember. A story of lost love, revenge, and a revolution.

                It was a quiet foggy night in Nottingham. The guards stood watch in front of the castle gates. Wind rustled the trees leaves and made the flames of the torches dance. The guards peered deep into the forest, an uneasy feeling settled over them. PHUMP! An arrow soared through the air striking the guard on the left deep in the heart. He fell to the ground, dead in an instant without so much as a peep.
Before the guard on the right could even draw his weapon, another arrow soared through the air, striking him in his chest. He fell to the ground groaning in pain. A mysterious figure jumped down from the nearest tree. It was a women, all clad in green. She walked closer to the figure, watching him slowly die. “Ro-Ro-Robin..Hood.” He choked out before finally dying. The women grabbed both of her arrows before signaling for her crew. Twenty men stepped out from the shadows, quickly and quietly following behind the women in green. She silently gave them their orders, and they followed them loyally. Each of them climbed the high castle walls, while she grabbed the keys from the guard. The door was heavy, but it didn’t make too much noise as she opened it. She kept her bow armed with another arrow just in case. They all moved swiftly, getting into position. They readied themselves for an attack that could happen at any moment. Suddenly a guard on patrol came around the corner and spotted the women in green. Before he could so much as scream, she was there with her sword. She sliced his throat open and dark ruby red poured out from his neck. Ten men followed her deeper into the castle grounds. They kept as silent as they could as they moved across the stone ground. “Drop your weapons!” The group was suddenly surrounded by guards. The group was now huddled in a circle facing outward. They kept their weapons in hand, ready to fight. “Drop them now!!” Yelled one of the guards. Just as the group was ready to strike a voice cut through the night. A voice the women in green knew all too well.
“WAIT!” The voice bellowed before stepping forward. He was well dressed, a man of noble position. He was the Sherriff of Nottingham and the reason the women in green was here.  “You there, step forward.” He called out, pointing to the women in green. She stepped forward, keeping her head bowed, but her arrow ready. The sheriff almost gasped in shock. “How can this be?” He asked.
“It’s like I’m seeing a ghost. You can’t be him.” He said.  “You cannot be Robin Hood.” It was true, the women in green was dressed identically to the local outlaw. “Robin Hood is dead, I killed him.” The Sherriff stated with a smirk. “No..you are right Sherriff, I am not Robin Hood.” The women in green put her bow on her back, and took the green cap off. Long red locks descended down her back. The guards gasped at the shock of a women standing before them. “Marian?” The sheriff asked. He too was shocked to see her standing before him. She looked the monster that had killed her lover, had raped and tortured her. Pure hatred boiled inside her as she glared at the sheriff. “You miss him so much you’ve decided to dress like him is that it?” The sheriff laughed. “Oh dear Marian, have you learned nothing?” He asked. Marian answered that question by impaling him in the throat with her sword. She had moved quickly before anyone else could. The sheriff choked, blood gurgling in the back of his throat. His eyes were wide with fear and shock. Marian watched happily as the light from his eyes slowly faded and she dropped his lifeless body to the ground. The rest of the group, better known as the Merry Men, pounced on the remaining guards. The battle was short and swift as the Merry Men had more skills and power than any of the guards combined.

This was the night that started a revolution. Marian was happy that she had gotten her revenge, but she knew she had unfinished business. For the rest of her years, she lived out her days pretending to be Robin Hood. She no longer called herself Marian, it reminded her too much of her old life. She and the Merry Men traveled across Nottingham eradicating justice, taking from the rich and giving to the poor. 

My halloween costume that inspired this story!:

Peanut Butter

            The paste stuck to the roof of her mouth, her inner cheeks, her tongue, and her lips and fingers. The salty flavor made her wrinkle her nose in annoyance and smack her tongue against the roof of her mouth, like one would see a dog do if they were given peanut butter. She wasn’t sure how she felt about this.

            The hot July air made her sweaty and sticky, the hot wind didn’t help, but she was grateful for the spaghetti strap thing blue shirt and denim shorts that went half way down her thighs. Her flip-flops dangled off her foot as she sat against the tree, lying against the tree really. Her back was slouched and was half on the tree and half on the grass, one leg bent over the other, toes in the air.

            Her date wasn’t what she had expected either. He was as disappointing as the peanut butter that had oozed out of her PB&J from the heat. His name was Alexander, he was golden-haired, bronze skinned, and lean enough to be a swimmer. But he had the personality of an anti-social gamer who didn’t want to leave technology for more than a piss break. Every twenty-five seconds he would check his phone, and not for the time, but to see who was the latest tweeter.

            Sighing, Sasha finished the peanut butter on her fingers, the salty flavor making her think of the sweat rolling down her neck. She wanted a shower very badly. Taking a sip of the apple juice that they had brought, because Alexander didn’t drink alcohol and Sasha didn’t drink soda, she washed down the salt with sweet and finished her sandwich.

            Alexander was reading his twitter feed out loud, laughing at some of the posts, scolding others, and Sasha felt like this was the longest flop of a date she had ever been on. The summer air exhausted her, her date exhausted her, and the peanut butter exhausted her. It was like there was no end in sight to the exhausting day that she was now having. At least until she saw the yellow balloon elevating in the sky.

            Following its trail up, she wondered where it had come from, and stood up. Her date kept reading his twitter. Moving towards where the balloon had started to rise, she saw it. Something that would release her from her date, and the dullness of her summer day. A water themed carnival.

            It looked like it had just been set up, spare of the moment, and she looked over at her date to ask him to join her. She could at least attempt to not be a bitch. But he was still latched to his phone, so she shrugged and left. She got soaked, she got laughed at and she laughed at others. She had fun. They had melted peanut butter cups, she partook, and the salty peanut butter latched to the roof of her mouth. She giggled and loved it.

Strawberries

Authors Note: My favorite thing in the whole world is pie. I recently had myself a piece of banana cream pie, which isn't the main pie in this story, but it's part of the inspiration. The main inspiration for this story is strawberries. Just simple strawberries, nothing else. While eating them I thought about making a pie, which led to this story! So I hope you enjoy. I know this isn't exactly what the challenge is about, but this is what I thought about while eating strawberries. Enjoy! (p.s. I also recently watched a romantic film..so that also kind of led to this haha) 

It was a rainy Wednesday in May, and Calvin made his usual trip to the Dreamy Cow Diner. Everyone greeted him on his way in. “Hey Cal how ya doing this afternoon?” Asked Jim, one of the regulars at the diner. “Oh I’m good, Just coming in for my regular.” Calvin had been coming to the Dreamy Cow Diner for over three months, ordering a piece of pie. But pie wasn’t the main reason he came to the Diner. He came in to see the girl making the pies. Her name was Johanna Shaw and Calvin was convinced that she was his soulmate. The first day he came to the diner he tried to order the mile high strawberry pie.
Louise almost died laughing when he asked this. Louise was one of the older waitresses that worked at the Dreamy Cow and now was one of his favorite people.
“Why are you laughing?” He had asked her.
“Listen son, that pie is the most delicious thing you will ever taste in your life.” She said.
“But Jo back there only makes it for people she likes, people who she can trust. It took me a month or more to gain her trust for her to make me that pie.” Said Louise.
“Then why do you even put it on the menu?” Asked Cal. At this point he was somewhat frustrated. He was new to this town and had yet to find out about all weird and wonderful quirks it had to offer.
“We think of it as a nice little joke, we don’t get too many out of towners in these parts.” Calivn sighed.
“Well I just moved here and I-“  He stopped mid-sentence, that’s when he saw her. Johanna had short brown hair and cute little freckles that dotted her face. Her eyes were the same brown as her hair, but she was the most beautiful thing Cal had ever seen. That day he made the plan to win over her heart.

Now three months later he sat at the counter and he still had not gotten a piece of mile high strawberry pie, or Jo’s phone number.
“Hey Jo.” He said smiling at her. Jo kept working in the back, folding and kneading dough.
“Hi Cal.” She said simply and kept on working.
Louise came over to take his order. “Hey Cal, how ya doing?” She asked.
“I’m doing good Louise. I’ll take a cup of coffee, and what’s the pie for the day?” He asked. He knew it wasn’t going to be the pie he had been waiting for, but a guy could dream.
“Chocolate Cream, would you like a piece?” She asked. Of course Louise already knew the answer was yes, but this was a little joke of theirs.
“I don’t know Louise…Is the Chocolate Cream as good as the Strawberry Mile High?” Calvin asked smirking. He said it a little louder so Jo would hear him.
“Not even close.” Louise answered.
“Ahh well I’ll still take it.” He said. He took a glance in the back and he spotted a tiny smile on Jo’s face.
This was his favorite day of the week, because if he was lucky enough he would get to see that little smile at least once.

The next week he came and again it was another rainy day, worse than last Wednesday. He shook out his umbrella before coming inside the Dreamy Cow. Most of the regulars were missing that day, not wanting to deal with the weather. It looked like it was just him, and old Bobby who liked to sit in the corner and read the newspaper.
“Hey Louise, it’s pretty bad out there today.” He sat down at his regular spot at the counter. Louise set a cup of coffee down without saying anything. He knew immediately that something was wrong.
“Louise..what’s wrong?” He asked. She sighed before coming back over.
“It’s Jo.” She said. “Today is the anniversary of her Aunt’s death. Her Aunt was the one who raised her.” She said solemnly. “She didn’t come in today, so there won’t be any pie. Sorry sweetie.”
Calvin could care less about the pie, he was more concerned for Jo.
“Oh I’m sorry to hear that. I hope she’s okay. Is there anything I can do?” He asked. Louise shook her head. “The best thing to do is to just leave her be.” She said.
Cal stared down at his cup of coffee. He wished there was some way to help her feel better. He stared at his coffee watching it get cold when the idea popped into his head.
“LOUISE!” He called out. Louise came around the corner. “Yes, Cal? For christ’s sake keep your voice down.” She laughed.
“I’m gonna make her a pie.” He said. Louise busted up laughing, grabbing the counter for support.
“Are you kidding me? You, Calvin Parker, are gonna make the Queen of Pies..a pie?” She asked laughing some more.
“YES, yes I am.” He said taking off his jacket. He rolled up the sleeves on his white dress shirt before hopping over the counter. Louise didn’t stop him, just stared at him with amusement.
“Okay, good luck. Do you even know how to make pie?” She asked. Calvin thought about this for a moment. He had no clue how to make pie, but goddamn it he was gonna try his hardest.

Two burnt pies later, he thought he had his winner. He attempted to make banana cream pie, which Louise said was Jo’s favorite. “Okay how does it look?” He asked.  Louise looked him up and down before looking at the pie. He was covered in flour and his white shirt was stained with banana cream filling. She laughed before giving him a pat on the back.
“You are a good man Calvin Parker, let’s hope that pie tastes better than it looks.” She said before telling him Jo’s address. He left the Dreamy Cow keeping the pie safe beneath his umbrella.
Jo lived only a block away in a tiny little house that used to belong to her Aunt. He walked up the front steps and rang the doorbell. When Jo answered the door he could see that she had been crying.
“Cal? What the hell are you doing here?” She asked.
All the confidence Cal had was now gone as he tripped over his words.
“Uh..Hi Jo. Um..so I brought you something.” He handed her the pie.
“So..yeah um Louise said it was your favorite. It’s banana cream..I know it doesn’t look like it, but it is. Anyways, um so I figured you make pies every day for people..but um nobody ever makes pie for you so yeah.” He said nervously. She looked down at the pie before giving him a smile.
“Thank you Cal.” She said.
“Your..uh welcome. Anyways I gotta get going..so bye Jo!” He said walking as quickly away as he could. He felt like he was twelve years old again.

The next week the weather was Sunny outside and Calvin almost dreaded going into the Diner.
After last week’s embarrassing attempt, he almost couldn’t bear to look at Jo, knowing she probably thought he was a buffoon. He walked in to find the diner full of people, busy and bustling.
He sat down at his regular spot, trying to lay low. A cup of coffee was placed in front of him and he looked up expecting to see Louise, but instead Jo was there with a smile on her face. He almost knocked over his coffee in surprise.
“Hi Cal.” She said like it was just another day.
“Hi..uh-“ He cleared his throat. “Hi Jo.” He said.
“Where’s Louise?” He asked.
“Oh she’s around. Anyways what can I get you?” She asked.
“Uh..just the pie of the day, thank you.” He said.
“You got it.” She said before walking away. Calvin sipped his coffee nervously. Maybe she actually liked the pie, maybe he hadn’t made a complete fool of himself, only half a fool.
When Jo came back she set down a whole pie in front of him. He stared at it shocked, it was THE pie.
He looked up at Jo, his mouth hanging open. “Enjoy.” Was all she said before walking away.
He took a big bite and the flavors exploded in his mouth like fireworks. It was everything Louise said it would be, only better. It was the best pie he had ever had in his life. Sweet and satisfying and it tasted like pure happiness. It was so good that Cal couldn’t stop himself. He kept eating until he finished the whole pie. He stomach was full and he felt like he had died and gone to heaven. Jo whistled making him look up. She winked at him before making a gesture, telling him to turn the pie pan over. When he turned it over, there in black sharpie was a phone number. 

Challenge #73

Hello everyone!

We are finally done with the Alphabet Challenge! Hallellujah!

The challenge for this week is to write a story based off of a taste. The title of your story should be what you are tasting, eating, drinking, whateves, while your story is about what that taste brings to mind.

If you would like to submit your own work of awesome for Fan Friday, please do! Just e-mail your submission to inkedfeathersfink@gmail.com!

See you all on Wednesday!

Zone

“Welcome to the Zone Mr. Douglas.” The man says pulling off my blindfold. I squint my eyes getting used to the bright room. It is all white almost like an insane asylum, but this is worse. I’m on knees with my hands tied behind my back. The rope digs into my wrists and I can feel blood trickling down my fingers. The man that brought me walks around to face me. He’s wearing an all-white suit that blends in with the rest of the room.
“Do you know why we brought you to the Zone Mr. Douglas?” He asks me. I look at him, but keep my mouth shut.
“Of course you do. You know what the Zone was created for don’t you?” He asks me and again I keep my mouth shut. No use answering rhetorical questions.
“Now, the only problem I have is that we don’t know what your specialty is yet. Only that you have one. So today we are going to find out, one way or another.” Two more men come from behind me and lift me to my feet. I would try to fight them with everything I have, but I’m saving that for the man in white.
“Oh and Mr. Douglas one more thing.” The Man in white says, turning to face me. “If you don’t co-operate…Your daughter will die.” My eyes go wide and my knees go weak beneath me, but the men keep me standing up. I am shocked silent as to how they have found Paige. The man in white gives me one last smile before walking away. I scream at him, I kick my feet, but the men only drag me away.

                They take me to another room bathed in white and make me dress in the proper attire. A white shirt and white pants with the same weird clingy material, but loose enough for me to move. Blood from my wrist drops onto the white shirt, staining it red. One of the men looks at me before punching me in the face. “You got red on your new shirt!” He yells. He’s like a psychotic mother yelling at their child. Blood from my nose drips onto the shirt making it worse.
“Dammit Crouger, look what you did you made it fucking worse!!!” The other man yells. “Take him to the Med Bay so they can fix him up, then we can start this whole fucking process over again.” He says. Crouger grabs me and pushes me through another door. I keep quiet as he leads me down another white hallway. “That wasn’t very nice of you.” I say. “What did you just say?” He asks me.
“I said that wasn’t very nice of you.” I hate using my talent, because every time I do I feel like a part of me changes and one day I’ll no longer be me, but I’ll be some kind of monster. But that was before they took Paige, everything changes now and  Crouger is about to die. I turn quickly around to face him and before he can even move an inch I touch my right pointer finger to his chest. In an instant he’s on fire, his body burning and smoldering until nothing there’s nothing left but smoke and ash. I can feel my eyes burning like they always do after a kill. It’s an excruciating pain, but I’m used to it now. I step over the pile that used to be Crouger and move back the way I came. It’s time to find the man in white.

               

                It doesn’t take me long to find the Man in White. His entourage shoot at me, but the bullets melt before they even come close. “Ah so that is your Talent, Mr. Douglas. I should have known you were a Flame Enforcer.” I smile at the man in white. “That’s what you got it wrong; I’m not a Flame Enforcer. I’m a fucking Goliath.” I cherish the moment of realization that crosses on The Man in white’s face. I can see the fear in his eyes as he looks at me. The room is quiet, no body shoots at me. They just stand there in awe. “But-But Goliaths aren’t real…they’re just not.” One of the men says, his gun shaking in his hand. I look over at him, just a quick glance and his body combusts. His soul still hangs in the air, light blue and wavering until I raise my hand; it gets sucked in, the seventh soul I’ve devoured. The rest of the men drop their guns and run for the door as fast as I can. The man in White attempts to flee, but I stand in his way. “Not so fast. Where is my daughter?” I ask him. My voice is an echo, as the other souls talk with me. “She’s not here, I swear she’s not here.” He drops to his knees, pleading for his life.
“TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!!!” I yell and the souls echo with me. My eyes are pure fire now that blaze out from the sockets. The Man in White cowers in fear. “They took her to Zane.” He says. Zane is the high leader, the one that created the Virus, the one that made me who I am. My heart drops with the thought of what he might have done to Paige.

I burn down the Zone and everyone in it, I can feel myself growing into a monster, but I won’t stop until she is safe. I will devour soul after soul until I find her. 

Zion

            Gold. The streets were supposed to be paved in gold. The staircases embroidered in pearl, the mansions in silver, the landscape in emeralds and sapphires. Everything was supposed to be beautiful and perfect in Zion. Life here was supposed to be miraculous and full of splendor. Our messiah was supposed to meet us here, give us hope and love and eternal life in His kingdom.

            Blood. Blood and bile is all that was found in Zion. Our Messiah spat on us and laughed a high pitched screech as he mocked us in our attempt to meet Him. Religious wars were held in Zion. No one could be right, everyone could only be wrong, especially when it came to how to meet Him and receive a part of His grace.

            After a millennia, one would think that this would have ended somehow. But it has not, and it never will. The streets are paved in blood, the staircases embroidered with the skulls of the young, the mansions in mud, and the landscape is a hot bright white in the light, and a dark and deceiving one to behold at night. Zion, birthplace of religion, gravesite of the religious.

Challenge #72

The challenge for this week is to write a story based off of the letter Z! FINALLY! FREAKING FINALLY!!! You may integrate tons of words with  this letter into your story, or focus your story on a word that starts with this letter.

If you would like to join us for the challenge by submitting your own short stories, poems, or art, please do! Just e-mail us at inkedfeathersfink@gmail.com so that we may showcase your work for Fan Friday!

The next challenge is a challenge to write about a taste! So, if you would like us to write about a certain food, flavor, or beverage, send us a message! We will totally do so! Heck, we may even write a chapter short story if there are many flavors presented to us.

See you all on Wednesday!

The Year

Julia stared at the plane ticket in her hand. For such a small piece of paper it felt so heavy in her hands.
She sighed for the fourteenth time that morning. This wasn’t going to be easy and Julia knew that, but now that she was sitting here it seemed even harder. She was leaving for a whole year to go live with her Aunt in California. Julia was what her family liked to call “The black sheep”, which is exactly what they used to call her Aunt before she got her act together. Somehow they thought sending her to the other side of the states would help fix her problem. Part of Julia was excited to see the sunny state of California and adventure, but she didn’t want to say goodbye to her friends. But most of all she didn’t want to say goodbye to Holden. Holden was her best friend growing up, and when he was thirteen he was killed in a car accident. Julia visited his grave every Friday and she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him and going so far away. Everyone kept telling her she needed to move on and that it was time, but Julia couldn’t because if she forget about Holden and moved on, the rest of the world would too. Who would come visit him every Friday? Who would bring him one single flower? It frustrated Julia to no end. She knew she could just run away of course, but where to was the question. She couldn’t run away with Holden because he was stuck in the cold hard ground and gone forever.
                So she got on the plane and she flew out to California to finally meet her Aunt Izzy. Her Aunt lived in the small town of Petaluma California. When her Aunt saw her for the first time she actually cried. “Come here sweetie.” She said and hugged her tightly. Her Aunt was tall and had long red curly hair. Her eyes were a mix of hazel and green and Julia couldn’t help, but think she was the most beautiful women. “Aunt Izzy, you’re..so pretty.” Julia laughed. Her Aunt made a funny face before saying
“Did everyone tell you I was ugly or something?” They instantly became great friends.
Her Aunt gave her the tour of the city and took her to her favorite bookstore: Copperfields.
“Okay Julia I want you to pick out 12 books today. You are going to read one book each month, and I know I sound like a teacher or something, but trust me on this okay? I’ll even read some of them with you. They can be almost any book you want, but I have to approve of them first okay?” So Julia roamed the store, picking out six books in the young adult section that her Aunt said was okay. She wandered over to the Fiction section and picked out three more books. Her aunt picked the same three as well and followed Julia to the poetry section where she picked out two more books. She had one more book left and as she roamed the classics section her eyes came across Catcher in The Rye. Immediately her heart plummeted to the floor as she thought of Holden back in Massachusetts. Tears sprang to her eyes and she sat down on the floor. Her Aunt was right by her side asking her what was wrong and trying to comfort her. Julia told her the story about Holden and how it was so hard for her to let go. Izzy sat down next to her on the floor. “Let me tell you a story okay? When I was eighteen I married a man I thought I loved. I moved here to California to be with him. Everyone In the family judged me so harshly for what I had done. They told me time and time again that it was a stupid mistake. Turns out it was, because a week after our marriage he ran off with some bimbo. We got a divorce of course and I didn’t know what do with myself. I couldn’t handle it, it came to the point where I wanted to end my life. But then one day my friend lent me a book, and it wasn’t even that great of book mind you, but it changed my life. I became so enthralled in books and reading that eventually I got better. I promise you, if you read all 12 of those books this year, you will feel better. It will be hard, but I promise you..it will get better.”
                So each month Julia picked out the book she would read and took her time reading them each month. Some of the stories weren’t that great and others were the best she had read in her life. Page by page she began to heal. Holden would still be gone, but Julia knew she could keep him in her heart forever. The year was almost over and Julia saved Catcher in The Rye for last. She read it in under a week and talked to her Aunt about it. Together they discussed the book, and discussed other things too. Her parents called her a week before the year was over and told her they were going to be buying her plane ticket back. But Julia shocked them by telling them no.
“I want to live here with Aunt Izzy for a couple more years. I realize now that this is where I’m meant to be.” Her mother was furious, telling her that she had to come home and that her friends were here and all her family. But her father told her to stay, knowing that Julia was right. Izzy and Julia were almost like the same person and that Izzy had more to teach Julia. So she stayed and read more books and finally felt like she belonged. 

Yuck

            Ymmij’s mouth chewed on the white sauced alfredo pasta. His lips smacked and his tongue licked at the white sauce as it slipped from his mouth as he chewed. The flavor was plain and he had added enough parmesan and red pepper flakes to make Candy Mountain look like a small ant hill.

            His friends stared as he devoured his fourth plate. Adnaram felt the salty bread sticks about to come back up her stomach. Acceber looked away and tossed her breadstick down to the plate. Her stomach queasy enough from not eating from the previous days did not help the disgusting view she beheld with the others. Tnarg looked in awe and laughed, like boys do when viewing things that most would find repulsive. Eissac blushed and laughed, she was used to Ymmij’s eating habits and found this amusing.

            As the four watched their friend devour his pasta, they wondered if he would ever stop eating. The restaurant’s policy was all you can eat, and yet they seemed to be annoyed whenever Tnarg would ask for more. Coming up, they would toss the new platter of pasta down in front of them, a fake smile plastered to their exterior.

            “I think I’m gonna be sick, but I want more,” Ymmij burped out, white sauce dripping from his beard.

            “I think I’m gonna be sick,” Adnaram sighed out, taking a sip of her water, averting her eyes in case the boy puked white goo in front of them.
            “How about you stop eating then,” Tnarg suggested, giggling in hopes his friend would puked so that he would be able to record it and post it online.

            Burping, Ymmij pounded his chest and lifted himself from the table. Wobbling to his feet, he made it a few steps before bending over and making a sound that made the other four back away. Tnarg whipped out his phone, after the initial shock of what was about to occur, and tried to make it to the from of his friend, hoping to catch projectile vomit on film. Sadly, in his attempt to humiliate his friend publicly, he ended up tripping over a chair and landed right where his friend’s white and yellow bile landed.

The moral of this story? Don’t eat something that you think tastes bad just because you’re hungry. It will come back to haunt your ass.

Challenge #71

The challenge for this week is to write a story based off of the letter Y. You may integrate tons of words with  this letter into your story, or focus your story on a word that starts with this letter.

If you would like to join us for the challenge by submitting your own short stories, poems, or art, please do! Just e-mail us at inkedfeathersfink@gmail.com so that we may showcase your work for Fan Friday!

See you all on Wednesday!

XOXO

I just want to apologize for uploading this later than I intended. I've had some internet issues lately. But I hope you all enjoy the story! ~Feather

The day I found your letter was the day I finally snapped. I broke down in tears, throwing plates from the kitchen sink at the wall, and screaming at the top of my lungs. I had tried so hard to be strong for you, to keep it in. I pushed it so far down deep inside me I had hoped it would never come out. But then I saw your scratchy xoxo at the bottom of a letter I thought I’d hidden. The feelings were almost too much to bear, I couldn’t breathe and I thought the world was spinning around me. I lay there in the corner of our bedroom, next to the lamp you had never fixed and I cried. I cried so hard I almost flood the damn house. It was a buildup of all those tears I hadn’t shed yet: the tears I hadn’t shed when they told me you were gone, the tears I refused to let fall at your funeral, and they were all coming out. The realization that I would no longer receive another letter from you with your xoxo at the bottom felt like someone ripping out my heart and letting it sink to the bottom of the ocean. I couldn’t stop the millions of thoughts that flowed through my mind in that little moment. The biggest thought of course, was to take my own life so that I wouldn’t have to live another day without you. It was a strong feeling that wouldn’t go away no matter how hard I tried. I came so close, so very close, but something held me back and I thank god every day that I didn’t do it.
                So now I am here a year later and I’m writing this letter to you. I want you to know that I miss you every fucking day. Life is lonely without you, but I’m trying to make the best of it. The day I almost took my life I had realized something. I had to be strong for you; I had to live this life for not only me, but for you. So when it’s Sunday I eat your favorite ice cream, and when I’m flipping through the channels on tv I always stop on the educational channel for just a second. I wear your favorite color green at least once a month, and when I look up at the moon I think of your handsome face smiling down at me. I want you to know that I’ll never find anyone who was as perfect for me as you, but I will try to find someone who makes me happy, and I will try to live out the rest of my life the best way I can. I know you would have wanted this for me.
                This is the last letter I will ever write to you, and it’s hard to accept this. Even if it has been a year, it still doesn’t feel real. But I want you to know that I will love you for the rest of my life. You are my everything darling and I will never forget that. So now we are here at the end and I wish I could just keep writing this letter till I run out of ink. But there’s a whole world out there and I have to go live it for the both of us. So goodbye Jonathan, I miss you and I will always remember the amazing days we shared.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Yours forever and always,
Emily

Xyloid

            Xerxes ran across the water and felt nothing. He did not feel the sand scratch and burn his feet. He did not feel the cold water cool his feet and wet his skin. He did not feel the sun beating down on him, the air rush through his lungs in hot blasts, nor the feel of the wind as it lifted his hair and cooled the sweat from his brow and neck.

            What Xerxes did feel was the vast emptiness inside him. He felt it as if it were a helium balloon lifting him in the air and lifting him through the expanse of the universe that he, and a trillion other species inherited. There were no words that left his mouth that he did not take moments to think of, making sure that each syllable and annunciation was correct and the meaning he put out fit the situations he required. He was hollow.

            He felt no joy when seeing friends or family, he felt no contempt when seeing enemies, or just people whom the world thought he disliked. He felt no love towards his friends and family, towards the girl he was dating, or the guy he was seeing at the same time. He felt the void and the void consumed.

            Pausing for a moment, not for breath, but just because he felt that he should, he stopped running. He looked at the ocean. He sat down in the sand. His movements were slow and mechanical, but he looked more like a wind-up toy than a human. A puppet, yes, that’s what Xerxes felt like. He felt no control over his own self, he just felt as though he were playing a part in a puppet theater. Someone else pulled on his wooden limbs held by white wool string. Someone spoke the words for him, someone made him move the way he did and he had no power to change it. The puppeteer was resting. So he rested.

            Minutes passed and Xerxes waited for the Puppet Master to return. He stared at the sun setting, felt the void in his stomach expand to his heart and brain. He felt stiff all of a sudden. He felt. In shock he tried to look down at his limbs, tried to turn his head, but it was in vain. He could not move. His wooden limbs cut from the string, the Puppet Master gone, nothing to hold him up and keep him going.

            Encased inside his own body, movement gone, inside his numb head, he wondered what would happen to him now, and realized that he didn’t care. People passed, dogs passed, time passed, and he stayed still on the beach. Dead to the world as he had been dead inside.