2015 Writober 13: Raven's Moon (short story start)

Raven’s passenger car was at the top of the ferris wheel when it stopped. All the other carnival goers started grumbling and crying and screaming. After peaking over the edge to see the sparks fly, the carnival workers on the ground yelling to each other, and the carnival goers yelling at the workers, Raven slid out from under her restraints. As she stood, the little pod swayed back and forth, but she kept her balance.

It was a crisp, clear autumn night with only one cloud in the sky. That one cloud was covering the moon, her moon. She stared up at it, her long features pulling into a scowl.

“Hey lady, what’re you doing?”

The squeaky male voice came from behind and just below her. She twisted her head and fixed her sharp, black eyes on the teenage boy in the car behind her. His letterman’s jacket screamed jock, but he didn’t have the vapid look she had come to assume all jocks wore. She tilted her head, wondering how he could see her. She had worn all black for the occasion and the darkness of her skin reflected no light in this darkest night. Perhaps it was her hair. Even though it too was black, it was shiny.

He gasped as she leaned over the back of the gondola towards him, causing it to dance. Once it had settled down, she touched a long, slender finger to her lips and breathed a, “shhhhhhhhh!”

With a deep inhale, his green eyes opened wide. On the exhale, his eyelids fell and he slumped forward, asleep.

Raven turned back to the moon. Balancing, one foot on the seat and the other on the bar that closed the pod, she held her hands up to the sky and mimed grasping the cloud.  She yanked and tossed it aside. As if she’d actually grabbed it, the cloud skittered across the sky. Her moon was bright and full. She tilted her head, closed her eyes, and smiled. After a few seconds of soaking in the light and power of the moon, she hopped to the floor of her pod and pulled off her clothes.

“What the hell?”

This voice came from the pod in front of her’s. She sighed. The couple in that pod hadn’t stopped making out since the ride started. They hadn’t even come up for air when the wheel stopped, but they just had to look while she was getting naked.

Leaning over the front bar, she put her dark finger to her dark lips and hissed a, “shhhhhhhh!” Both of them, the blonde boy and the raspberry girl, gasped then slumped into each other.

The cacophony of angry voices from below, swelled. Frustration blossomed within her. All these interruptions! How was she supposed to transform when these humans were interfering with her ritual?

Leaning over the side of the gondola, she put a finger to her lips and swung her head from left to right as she exhaled her loudest, longest, “shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

Everyone on that side toppled where they stood or sagged where they sat. She repeated it over the other side of her pod. She smiled in the silence that followed. But such a display of magic took its toll on her and she fell back into her seat, very tired.

“No!” She said aloud, shaking herself. She had done too much to prepare for this night to let an energy sap sabotage it all. Grabbing the bottle of reviving elixir (better known as caffeinated soda), she drank it down. With a deep inhale, she stood with her arms stretched out and her eyes wide. The restorative light of the moon would fill her with power.

Soon the intensity of it became too much, so she closed her eyes. She could feel the magic coursing through her body. It was time to begin.

“Raven I am, raven I become. Raven by the moon I shall be. Corvus sum, et factus sum corvus. Corvum lunae fuero. Raven I am, raven I become. Raven by the moon I shall be. Corvus sum, et factus sum corvus. Corvum lunae fuero.”

As she spoke, the blackness of her eyes spread. Her hair rippled and wrapped around her head and neck, changing into feathers. Her nose and mouth elongated.

“Raven I am, raven I become. Raven by the moon I shall be. Corvus sum, et factus sum corvus. Corvum lunae fuero. Raven I am, raven I become. Raven by the moon I shall be. Corvus sum, et factus sum corvus. Corvum lunae fuero.”

Plumage pushed out through her pores as her arms pulled back, her shoulders cracking and reforming. Her back arched forward as longer feathers grew from her posterior.

“Raven I am, raven I become. Raven by the moon I shall be. Corvus sum, et factus sum corvus. Corvum lunae fuero.”

After the fifth repetition, her words became a caw and she spread her wings wide; a raven the size of a human. Two more caws and she flew off into the sky.

Below her, everyone woke.

2015 Writober 3: Trick or... trick?

"Impostor!" The words flew over the fence. “Impostoree! Villain! Vile, evil deceiver!”

April stared into the graveyard. She could see nothing. The sun was shining, but even its midday light couldn't penetrate the fog that had settled there. She shifted her mask so she could see better through the eye holes.

“Hello?” She called, turning her head from left to right. “Is there somebody in the graveyard?”

A thrilling cackle of laughter from many mouths cascaded through the fog.

“Oh yes, trickster. There are many someones here.”

April put her green painted fists to her hips and glared into the mist. “Look, whoever you are, you shouldn’t go around calling people names. That’s rude!” She stomped her heavy black boots.

“Oooooooo,” a high-pitched voice imitated April’s childish tones. “Thaaaaat’s ruuuuude!”

“You know what’s rude?” The first voice, a much deeper voice, asked. “Pretending to be something you most definitely are not.” The voice made a grunting noise. “What are you supposed to be anyway?”

“I’m a goblin!” April stated indignantly.

“You are not!” The voice shouted back.

April touched her hair that her mom had sprayed green color on, her warty mask, and the rest of her goblin costume. “But it’s for Halloween!” She whined. “Of course I’m not REALLY a goblin. It’s only pretend.”

“That,” said the first voice with some deep satisfaction, “is exactly what I’ve been saying, fraudster.”

A hesitant voice spoke up. “You sure you’re not trying to be a toad?”

“A what?” Asked April.

“Quiet, Earl!” The rude voice demanded.

“Well,” April said, jutting out her chin. “Who are you?”

The voices seemed to speak all at once until the first voice made a throat clearing sound. They all fell silent.

T“We are, obviously, ghosts. That’s why we’re haunting the cemetery.”

The other voices made grunts agreement.

Just then, a strong breeze stirred the branches of the trees causing multicolored leaves to fall on and around her. The fog was swirling, whipping into a stronger and stronger whirlwind. It spilled out of the graveyard and danced around April until it had picked up enough speed and cycloned away.

Peering over the fence, April at first thought the ghosts had blown away with the fog. But then she noticed little bumps of white. Squatting down, she looked through the bars of the fence and saw what looked like white washcloths on the ground. She reached through and picked one up. Under it was a toad.

“The jig is up!” The large toad exclaimed, frantically hopping away from her reaching hand. All the other pieces of cloth that had been lying still, started bouncing until they fell off the toads they covered. April counted two dozen toads hopping further into the cemetery.

“That was unexpected.” April stated. “I do so love Halloween!”

Wishing

“I wish I could fly,” sighed the frog on the lily pad. “If I could, I would fly all the time! Why my feet would never touch ground and I’d only be wet when I wanted to. I could eat all the flying things ‘cause none would be out of my reach.”

A passing moth heard his diatribe from beginning to end. Swooping closer, she whispered. “I wish I could hop!”

“You do?” Asked the frog.

“Not really,” said the moth. “I was trying to make you feel like less of a loser. Flying’s AWESOME!”

Moth’s can be such jerks.

Writober Daily Drabble 2: The Squirrel Watches YOU!!!

“Whatchu lookin’ at, dog?”

Phoebe stops and pulls her walker back to the tree. She looks up at a squirrel hanging sideways on the bark.

“Well,” says Phoebe. “It’s bitch, not dog and I didn't even see you.”

The squirrel laughs. “Oh, that came out totally wrong! I noticed you stopped over there and was wondering what had your attention.”

“Come on, Phoebe.” The walker pulls on the leash. “Let’s leave the nice squirrel alone.”

“There’s a really big acorn under that leaf!” Phoebe barks as she’s dragged away.

“Thanks!” The squirrel chitters back, scurrying over to the big acorn.

Tiny Terrible Tale #9: Ben Who Left and Almost Never Came Back

Dedicated to Ben and based on a true story... though completely fictional

"Come on, let's go!" Ben's friends called.

"Where are we going?" Ben asked as he caught up.

A sly smile touched the lips of his closest friend as they stepped nearer to one of the sacred circles. "We," he said, "are going to a wedding!"

"Oh, okay," said Ben. "Whose wedding?"

"Yours!" His friends sang in chorus as they arrive.

In the clearing was a dragon. She was 10 feet tall, orange and blue and scaled like a serpent. She winked at Ben. He squealed then fled. He could hear the flap of leathery wings and he ran faster. The trees to his left and right burst into flames. He pushed himself to run even faster. The air filled with smoke and ash flew into his eyes and nose and throat. He coughed, feeling his pace slow and his legs become wobbly. His vision blurred as his head felt like it was floating above him.

"Am I high?" He asked, sinking to the soft, inviting earth.

A warmth surrounded him as the dragon wrapped around his body.

"Yes," she said and held him tight.

So they got married.

Alas, Ben had eaten raw chicken on a shish kabob so he got salmonella and died.

Tiny Terrible Tales 1: Shark and Cow

Guest Staring: Bee and Zebra

Late one night while camping, Cow was sitting by the fire, meditating on the flames. Shark came up behind him.

"Whatcha doin'?" Shark asked.

"Meditating on the fire," said Cow.

"Cool." Said Shark and he ate him.

He then sat in Cows empty chair and meditated on the fire until Bee and Zebra showed up. Then, they ate him.

THE END

dedicated to Claire and Tracy 

Daily Drabble 23: It's All in the Eye

One of the Huskies I walk is blind. She has slowly lost her sight over time. When I first met her, she could see but she’d lost one eye to glaucoma and her family was trying to save the other eye with eye drops. Thus far, they’ve been able to save the eye, but not the sight. Her brother, a husky mix, is really good about pinballing her away from hazards on our walks. She will sometimes walk next to him and he will guide her. He can be a goof, but he takes care of his sister. It’s sweet.

Daily Drabble 22: Red Wire Horse

The mystery of you makes me smile. I don’t know why someone chose to put you on their lawn, but I’m glad they did. I wonder if they made you or bought you from some art gallery or a thrift store. I wonder what other people think when they see you. I see story ideas. But I always see stories.

In my mind, you were found. A bit of trash left near the curb by a frustrated artist. But you were seen, taken and given a fresh coat of paint then placed in the front yard to protect the house.

Daily Drabble 20: Ink in His Fort

He’s watching you, he’s watching everyone from his fort. He has plans and he plots in his fort. If you are a cat or a human, he will get you. He’d get a dog in there were a dog in the house. He is the mastermind. He will manipulate and control the world! All will be beneath his paw! He sighs happily and stretches looking out at his domain. He will have world domination!

He thinks about leaving his fort and creating havoc. But he’s a bit tired. He stretches again and yawns. But later… he needs to nap now.

Daily Drabble 19: Chicken Wire in the Kitchen

What nobody expected was the cat.

He watched them fill the little plastic containers with dirt and seeds. They lined them up on the counter and watered them as the cat watched. But it wasn’t all that exciting so he walked away.

A couple of days later, he noticed the little pots had green things pointing up. He waited until they left before investigating. Climbing onto the cat tree closest to the island, he gaged the distance. It wasn’t too far. He jumped. A few of the sprouts bent under his weight.

The next day, they put up chicken wire.

Chicken Wire in the Kitchen

Daily Drabble 17: Terrible Poetry is Terrible (And picture too!)

Livin’ in a dome

Our beaver home

We gnaw on the wood

At times misunderstood

We manipulate

And create

We have the greatest plan

We are the Beaver Clan

Watch us swim so deep

The truth is what we keep

We smell like vanilla

Not like a gorilla

We manipulate

And create

We have the greatest plan

We are the Beaver Clan

We needn’t any tools

We’re very rarely fools

We’re waterproof

It’s not a spoof

We manipulate

And create

We have the greatest plan

We are the Beaver Clan

We have the greatest plan

We are the Beaver Clan

Daily Drabble 16: Psychic Penguin

If you find yourself on a glacier and a penguin stands before you, do not miss this opportunity to ask your fortune. Most penguins will just stare back, not comprehending. But if it’s the Psychic Penguin, you will learn amazing things.

“I speak in your dreams!” the Psychic Penguin shouts across the abyss of your mind. “Now ask me any question and I will tell you the truth. But you can only ask one question per dream. You will have to dream again if you have more to ask.”

Do you dare?

Do you care?

The Psychic Penguin is waiting...

Daily Drabble 12: Dead Bunny

Found in one of my journals from 2005

Even in death, this bunny looks active.

Why, when I look at this picture, does the word ‘cute’ pop into my mind? Is it a sociological predisposition that makes me feel that bunny equals cute? Or is it possible that I have a natural affinity for death, and therefore life, and cannot help but see the beauty? Decay is renewal beyond death. Life is sustained through death. Everything is cyclical in nature, life, history and spirituality. How can I not see the beauty that is in the cycle? In all cycles?

Or do I just think dead bunnies are cute?

Daily Drabble 6: Chickens

“She’s gonna live with us,” Joel announces. “And nobody’s going to eat her.”

Cherise nods, barely taking her eyes off the TV. She’d been waiting all week for a time when no one was around and she wasn’t going to let Joel’s sudden change in routine destroy that for her.

The chicken bocked, bringing her back to reality. Cherise looks around at Joel’s office and wonders at the mess. 
How, no, WHERE did he expect to keep a chicken?

“Will we get to eat her eggs?”

Joel shook his head.

“Fine.” Charise gritted her teeth.

“She doesn’t lay eggs anymore.”

Drabble Dream 11: Don't Lose The Message

My client hands me a cup, but when I try to drink, she insists it is a pitcher. I spill lemonade everywhere. I try to sop it up and stop it from getting on the penciled writing on the rolling cart.

She laughs, “don’t lose the message.”

I stop and look at my palm where I’d scrawled a note to myself. It’s smeared.

I’m chasing seven dogs, including a St Bernard, and a cat. People all around us are drinking and laughing. I keep dropping treats. I stop as they run into traffic.

I can hear laughter as I wake.

Of Ravens and Crows

After seeing this video: http://www.wimp.com/incrediblecrows/ on facebook about the intelligence of crows, I decided to watch the movie, "The Raven". From what I'd understood, this movie was supposed to be about the last few mysterious days of Edgar Allen Poe's life. If you haven't seen it, don't. It seems to be written by someone (or, perhaps, someones since there were two writers) who despised Poe and really just wanted to write a 'who done it'.
I was disappointed. I like Poe. When I was a teenager, I read everything he wrote.

But watching that led me to viewing this:

I knew some of the differences between Ravens and Crows, but this was fascinating! So good came of a crappy movie. Yay!

Skunks!

The skunks sat sweetly

Waiting like duotone puffs

Catching sparks of light

Things I've been doing today...

I...

• wrote an advice blog entry over in my petcare blog, Pocket of Poo, about what to do to prepare a cat for traveling.
• walked, petted and took care of seven dogs.
• petted and cared for four cats.
• prepared food and ate it.
• looked at and commented on pet pictures.
• worked on a short story.
• went by the library.
• printed up doggy and kitty report cards.
• consolidated trash.
• researched a few things.
• had silly conversations.
• drove and got gas.
• caused several people to smile.
• made a few lists.

Smiles

A few smiles...

• Today I smiled and engaged the clerk at the convenience store in conversation. He was reserved at first, then relieved and seemed genuinely happy by the time I left. In a mere few seconds, I brightened his day. I know this because he said so. 

• I had to cash a check at a bank my client uses (not my bank) and the woman had me fill out paperwork, tried to sell me on her bank and it took so much longer than it should have. But I just smiled, answered pleasantly then talked about walking a dog. I asked if she had any pets. This dire looking woman's face lit up as she told me all about her Chihuahua who hates everyone else but loves her. She tells me the pups name. I can't recall the name but it's Polish for sweety. He son says she should change then name to Killer. I say she should keep sweety and add killer to it... Sweety Killer. She laughed out loud. The other tellers looked over curiously. She blushed but kept on smiling. It was beautiful!

• When I walk Stanley, a black standard Poodle, we often see his neighbor walking his dog, Cinder, a black Pomeranian. Cinder barks at Stanley and Stanley stares her down as the man and I exchange pleasantries. He's about my dad's age and is a retired Fire Fighter. (I am still amused at his dog's name!) He recently told me every day that he sees me is a good day. That feeling is mutual!

• A woman in line ahead of me at Target had kitten food and new bowls and a litterbox. I asked her if she had just gotten her first kitten. She said no, she has two older cats and has had cats all her life. She found some stray/feral kittens whose mother wasn't around and she just couldn't leave them. They took a while, but are finally okay with being touched and she got all four of them into a carrier. Since her cats don't like other cats, she's sectioning off her condo. I commend her on taking them in and talk to her about the shelter I work with and say if she socializes them she can bring them in to get adopted. She tells me that her cats have always been found and that she didn't know shelters let people bring in pets. (She thought they only worked with the strays the police brought in.) She smiled and thanked me as she left.

• I sometimes write on my hand. Usually it's thoughts not to forget and sometimes, a grocery list. One day I had written, "Today is the day!" I don't remember why. My server saw my hand and teared up. I asked her what was wrong. She said nothing, only she'd been waiting for a sign and she knew that my hand was that sign. She thanked me.