Weekly Prompt

 

Prompt Came from: https://fabledplanet.com/50-fantasy-writing-prompts/

Prompt: A prophet realises that they will be the cause of the catastrophic event they have foreseen – and they’re not so sure they want to stop it.

His head throbbed, worse than it ever had before. He should be used to the feeling of his scalp pounding like a jackhammer, and he was most of the time, but never before did it feel as if it someone struggled to rip his skull from his scalp. He wasn’t sure if it came from the intensity of the vision he just had or the contents of it. Either way, he needed to sit down.

He held his hand out, grabbing for any piece of furniture he could find. His arms flounders around like a fish out of water for a second or two before it reached . . .

Soft cloth.

“Here let me help you, Simon,”

“Jack, that you?” There was no way, Simon would try opening his eyes. All he’d see would be dark grayness for another minute or two. The visions always left him in a sort of darkness afterwards. More of dark grays and light black mingled together until all he saw was . . .

Nothing. Not even shapes.

“Yeah, buddy, it’s me. Why did you not shout out for me?”

“Thought I could handle it myself.”

“We’ve told you anytime you have one of these Spiritual Visions that we will aid you.”

Simons knew his three best buddies would do anything for him. They’d grown up with him, saw him struggle with coming to terms with his mystical ability that he inherited from his biological parents. Heck fire, they helped more than his adopted parents managed to. Oh, they’d been supportive and tried to understand what he required but never quite grasped how important his visions was to the world. His visions redirected the entire world’s path of life. Kept it from fallen into tiny particles of dust from time to time. Once it kept a meteor shower that would have sent the world from spiraling out of orbit from hitting. Another time, he kept some mad-man from blowing up half of the US. Each time he had a vision it saved either the world or someone majorly related to the daily functioning of a major aspect of some part of the world. He worked closely with each major military enforcement of each government. Each vision he had impacted someone’s life in a major way and the one he had was no exception. But none had ever effected his personal life before. And it was in no simple manner. Life or death one. And for once, he did not wish to change it. If he did, his besties, their family and his own would die. They stood beside him when others left before he could even explain what he was. Heck, he knew the government only kept him around because of his ability, if it wasn’t for how it aided them he’d have been locked away or killed many years ago. They would want him to defend the world, not worry about a handful of people, but he would not betray his family and those who cared about him more than anyone else. He would not do so. Not for anyone, not even his own life.

“What was it this time? Which government do I need to call for you this time?”

The refrigerator door opened as Jack retrived me a bottle of cold water, which he always did after I had one of my visions. Each of my friends knew how dried out they left my mouth and whoever was around me made sure I had what I needed to recoup from them before they made the calls for me. That is why I would not be calling in my handlers.

“I need you to call Hank, Cal and tell them to gather their family. You call yours too. Tell them they are to pack only a bag of clothing for three night stay.” I let my eyelids slid up, blinking twice before I was able to focus enough to remember where my phone was. “Tell them all to meet us at the safe house.”

“What is going on?” Jack passed me the water as he tugged his phone from his back pocket. “What did you see?”

“I’ll explain once everyone is at the safe house and we can all get to safety.”

“Okay. Consider it done.”

Weekly Prompt

 

Prompt came from: https://fabledplanet.com/50-fantasy-writing-prompts/ 

Prompt: A deceased pet from the past shows up in your house – but now, they can talk. And they have something very important to tell you.

The lights were off, only light came from the faint orangish-flame burning in the sutt covered fire place my great-great-grandfather built with his own hands seven decades ago. Hell, he’d built the entire house from the first brick to the last stone paver in the driveway. Each generation had kept it up from then on, right to the moment it had been passed onto me the other month when my father had taken his last breath thanks to cancer. Right along side him had gone his trusted beagle, Servy. Servy, had came to my father when he was a pup from the woods behind the house. Father had found him wondering around, hungry and thirsty. He rushed him back to the house, begging his mom to keep him. Grandma had tried to tell dad no, but one look at the ruggied dirt covered puppy had her caving and shaking her head. Who knows why dad named the little black and white beagle Servy, but he did and the dog grew up to be the most loyal thing in the world. It did not surprise me that he took his last breath two days after my dad did. He vet said it was no uncommon for dogs who grew up with someone to pass along with them as well. It hurt me as much to lose Servy as it did my dad. 

I’d felt lots of loss in my life over the last ten years. It shouldn’t. be new to me, but I doubted it ever got easier to lose a loved one. I feared each of us had to suffered the grief process no matter what it was. I assumed that’s why I found myself sitting in my dad’s favorite, brown leather chair, the one that was conformed to his ass and had no cushion left in it, staring into the fire like a lost person remembering all the good times dad, mom, my wife and two children had together. All the ones I loved and lost over the last ten years were alive in my memory tonight, full and bright no matter how much I wished their ghost were not haunting me.

Whoof. Whoof. Whoof.

“Where is that coming from?”

I stood and made my way over to the front window, peeking through as I clicked the front porch light on. Doubted I’d see anything. There were no homes within a mile of the farm. All that I’d be able to see were empty horse pasters. Dad sold all his horses the moment he was diagnosed with cancer of the pacourous. They’d told him from the get-go there was no chance of surviving it and he knew I had no dream of running the horse farm. I loved the house and would keep it, but did not want the ordeal of keeping up the farm.

The light blinked on and off twice then fluttered to a bright life, revealing . . . “What in the world?”

I rushed over to the door, throwing it open and stepping onto the front porch, kneeling down, jerking back upright before I called Servy to me. There was no way in the world the dog I saw sitting in the front yard was Servy. I’d buried him next to my dad almost a month ago. Whatever dog sat there staring at me was just similar in looks. That’s all.

“Shoo, go away. Find you way back home.” I turned to go back in and got my hand on the door when the most unbelievable thing in the God-green Earth happened.

“I am home, Pinky-Boy.”

Only one person called me Pink-Boy in my life, my father and he only did so when we were alone, or when no humans were around us. And there were none around me right then. Hell, there was nothing around me then, but a damn dog that resembled a dead one.

“You are not going insane, Pickard.” The dog was at the foot of the porch when I turned back towards the front yard. “I have a message for you from your family.”

“Message from . . . Are you . . . I’m . . . There’s no way in the world I’m seeing or hearing this.”

The dog, no Servy, trotted the rest of the way up the porch and came up to my feet and sat down, staring up at me with his tongue hanging out. “You are.” He bobbed his head. “Your family, Lisa-Ann, especially says for her daddy to bring the horses back to the farmie for her to watch from above.”

Oh my God. There was no way, to disbelieve what I was hearing. Lisa-Ann had only been five when the drunk driver hit my wife’s car and took my entire family from me. My wife, Jessie, our son, Harry and our baby girl Lisa-Ann had all died on impact, leaving me to live a life without them all. Lisa-Ann had loved to come to the farm and see her grandpa, she never called it anything other than farmie and loved to ride the horses. She swore to her grandpa that she’d be a jockey one day like her grandma had been. Maybe, the message was from his family. Maybe, they were alive and watching him from the Good Heavens above and wanted him to know. Watned to give him a way to make it through the rough time that lay ahead of him now that he was all of the Hunkard family that lived.

Weekly Prompt

 Hi all,

First and all, Happy Memorial Day. Thanks to all those who served and died for our countries freedom over the years. I appreciate your sacrifice and that of your families. Without you, I would not have the right to express myself the way I do each week and the write to publish my work.

Now, on to the writing part.

Hope you all enjoy this week's prompt. It's not a full story for the prompt, but it's a start. I'm not too happy with what came from me on it, but it is what came to mind and that's what the point of these weekly prompts are. To sit and write what comes to mind during a free write session. Never know, I might come back to it at some other time and turn it into something amazing.

Take time to read what I came up with and let the imagination soar.

Julia

Prompt came from: https://fabledplanet.com/50-fantasy-writing-prompts/ 

Prompt: Your main character works as one of the following: a plumber, a baker, a hairdresser, a PE teacher. They are also one of the following: a vampire, a ghost, an elf, a fairy.

Prompt Choices: Baker who is a Fairy

The bright, yellow moon still lights the pavement as I flew through the flush green foliage towards the newly, built dark red, brick building dead center of Fairy Town. I’d been lucky to gain the position of Head Morning Baker. Didn’t expect it to entail flying through the streets at three in the morning every day of the week. Seven days a week then working eight to ten hours shifts a day. Great pay, though.

“Holt there.”

I drew up short, lifting my short fairy arms into the air. “What do you want?”

“What are you doing out at this time of night?” 

A human man, wearing a dark blue uniform with a gold star across the right front of his chest pocket. Darn, didn’t need any trouble from one of them. Just wanted to get to work and do my job and make money for my family and get them out from under the King’s thumb. I liked about three more months of hard work before I’d be able to do so. Then it would take a lifetime of hard work to keep them free from him, long as I could keep my baby brother out of trouble. Darn halfling never knew when to keep his mouth shut or where to keep his dick out of. That’s what got our family locked away to begin with. He decided to hold up with the King’s youngest son for a month without permission.

“Think I asked you a question, Fairy.”

“Sorry, Sir. I’m on my way to work.”

“Where at, Fairy?”

“In Fairy Town, the King’s Fay Bakery, Sir.”

“Why is there no one escorting you, Fairy?”

“I don’t need anyone to escort me, Sir.”

“You do at this time of night, Fairy.”

“And why is that, Sir?” 

There was no law stating that and I was just like every other fairy in the world with all their rights, even though I was under the thumb of the King. He might own me and my family, for now, but that did not steal our rights to come and go where we pleased as long as we did as told when we were told to do so by him. And I did. It’s why I’d earned the right to work to pay my families debt off.

“You are a nice young Fairy man and anyone could do harm to you, Fairy.”