What Do You Believe? – Crimson’s Creative Challenge #101

A little later than usual but that’s the way of it, sometimes.  Crispina says we have until forever to write so… here I am! I love finding something of mine to add to hers and put them together and I have it on good authority that it has now become expected of me.  I do not want to disappoint!

Where does this go, do you think?

Nowhere. You can plainly see it’s a broken down something that is now nothing.

You’ve no imagination, you know that?  Look how it seems to glow.  I think we should go in and investigate.

I think your imagination is working overtime. You’re always off in some magical place in your mind.

What’s wrong with that?

Nothing, I guess. But you know, facing reality is better suited to getting on in life.

I dunno about that. There is enough awful in reality. Seems to me, injecting a little magic helps to soften things, make the real palatable.

As long as you don’t forever live in your magical state.

You are so annoying sometimes, you know that?  Now hush up and come with me, would you?

Fine. But you’ll see there’s nothing— whoa… what the hell?

Whatsamatter?  Did you find some magic, oh, Realist?

 

Thoughts Become Things – Friday Fictioneers

I had a great idea for a story. Well, I had the beginnings of a great idea for a story.  Then I didn’t. But I did. But the words and my fingers had a fight. Irreconscilable differences, I’m afraid. So I fiddled and futzed and said fuggedaboutit.  And then pressed publish.

If your muse works like it should, then by all means, please click the frog below and add your story.  Rochelle, our lovely leader, is always thrilled when new peeps join in on the fun.

Clique Ze Frogue

Thoughts Become Things

Like speech bubbles, thoughts floated up, decorating the sky in glowing blue circles.

Those walking the street were oblivious to the goings-on above their heads, preoccupied with their own musings:  to-do lists, dreams and random thoughts.

Sharon sat in the doorway of her kiosk, looking, to anyone who bothered to even glance at her, like a simple kitschshop owner.  She could see their thoughts, and orchestrate them at will.  She swirled them around, bumped them together, made them trade places. She loved watching the bemusement cross their faces as aleatory thoughts popped suddenly into their head seemingly out of nowhere.

No Water, Please! – Friday Fictioneers

Good Thursday evening, my peeps!  Spent a few days away up in the Laurentians, taking in the fresh air, enjoying the snow and cottage life.  Back to reality…

I canna lie… looked at this hear picture for two days and finally asked my son what he saw.  A silly story was born.  Thank you, Rochelle and Priya for stumping me this week!

If you think you can play along with something original, please do!  Click on Rochelle’s name for the how-to’s and add your link by clicking on ze bleu frogue below…

©Priya Bajpal

Get the Frogue for your Blogue

No Water, Please!

“That’s a pretty jar.  Quite colourful.  What are they, love notes?”

“Nope.  Not love notes.  Not even paper.  They’re magical, though.”

“Really?  Why are some on the table?”

“I’m not sure they’ll fit.”

“Whatchu talkin’ about!  There’s lots of room.”

“Don’t be fooled.  One drop of water and the whole thing blows.”

“Hah!  What?  Do they turn nasty like in Gremlins?”

“Something like that…”

“Wait. What? You mean if I pour some of my water on these things—

“NO!  Don’t!”

Too late to stop him, I watched in horror as the pieces on the table grew into giant foam dinosaurs.