Drabble Dreams 7: Sentient Elevator

I fear elevators, but my new job was on the 50th floor. They have an elevator named Alish. We become friends. Alish tells me of a plot to kill me. We plan to kill the killers. Once I do, Alish confesses that they were there to dismantle her.

"They say I've become too sentient."

"Why didn't you trust me? I would've helped! Now I'm a fugitive. They'll send others!"

Alish wails, "I can see your soul! You wouldn't have killed for me! You will die with me!"

We fall.

I close my eyes, "I love you," is all I say.

New Computer!

I like to name my things. So, when I got my new computer, I took a bit to figure out a name. I was leaning towards 'Birdie' because it arrived early and there's that whole "early bird gets the worm" saying (I replaced 'worm' with 'work done' in my mind.) But then I started thinking about what kind of bird she is. She is a small computer with a good battery that will be connecting to the online community a lot. This is much like how Starlings are sturdy, small and highly social creatures.

Then I thought of another Starling... Clarice Starling, a main character from The Silence of the Lambs. That cinched it! Clarice investigates, pushes her own limits, has great stamina, is determined, brave and incredibly capable in any situation. Just what I want from a computer!

Plus, she's cute and so's my computer.  ;)

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

Drabble Dreams 6: Yellow

I’m in a closet. The yellow paint creeps up the wall. My legs are mangled. A woman laughs. As I crawl out of the closet, a hammer appears in my hand. I smash the woman’s legs. She keeps laughing. I wake in my bed. I reach to turn on a light but my arm doesn’t work. I scream. I pull myself out of bed, my legs are still broken and useless. I fall down the stairs, followed by the creeping yellow. I call for help; I’m more and more in pain. I’m becoming yellow. 
I scream. 
The house is empty.

Roller Skating!

The other day my friends talked me into going rollerskating. It's been YEARS since I've been skating. But when I was a kid, I used to roller skate all the time. I remembered how fun it was. 

At first, I was a bit wobbly. I began thinking it was a really bad idea, especially after a day of walking 10 different dogs, but then I got my "rink legs" and my body started remember how it was done. I started to pick up speed. I watched the really good skaters, the ones not in rental skates, and tried out a few of the things they were doing. I could do a few things; it was exciting! My friends were sitting off to the side, so I slowed down, aimed myself, maneuvered around a few people and ran right into a wall then fell back on my butt. Graceful, that is me!  

Drabble Dreams 5: Image

The girl in the oval mirror stares back at her like she always does. She blinks when Penny blinks and turns her body the same way. For twelve years Penny thought the girl was her reflection; that they were the same. But the change Penny knows is happening to her, isn't evident in the mirror.

"Lupenia, ahora!" Her mother shouts.

"Un momento!" Penny shouts back.

She wraps her long black hair around her left hand and twists her body. Nothing looks wrong in the mirror. But when she reaches back to touch her shoulder, the blade slices her hand.

Headstone

When some friends and I were hanging out in a graveyard taking pictures, I came across this headstone and had to photograph it. There's a story here just waiting to be explored....

Story Start: The Peculiar Predicament of Poppets

This is a tidbit of the writing I'm working on. I'm a bit obsessed with drabbles right now, so this story is being written in drabbles. 

Enjoy!

Boxes... They come in boxes from all over the world. It is so crowded with all the boxes and all the dolls. The dolls! The dolls cover every surface: the cabinets, the tables, the couches... she even made new surfaces with the boxes the dolls came in. Everywhere there are dolls. My room isn't even safe. But she says I have to share, I have to be nice, that they've family now too. I try to talk to her, to explain why she needs to stop. But she no longer hears me and it is too loud. I hate them.

The stories are what get me. They all have stories. Be they plastic or porcelain or wood or cloth, they all have stories about how the child who loved then died tragically and now the child's soul is forever hiding inside the doll they loved so dearly. Each story makes me cry. They so need someone to protect them from the evils of the world! How can I ignore their need? With just a few clicks of my mouse, I can bring that tiny soul to my home and keep it safe. They are my children and I love them.