2007-10-01 01:15 pm

Brand New Suckers: Fantasy

Brand new suckers! the sign advertised. She paused, tilted her head, and considered the shop's window. A few pumpkin suckers winked at her, and candy cobwebs illuminated the edges of the window. A gingerbread witch dangled from the center. She made a moue at it; you could tell it was a witch because of the large wart portrayed on the nose. She touched her own delicate protuberance. She did not look at all like the stereotypical witch, which pleased her, particularly when those well-off clients came in to visit and found themselves highly surprised. It wasn't just vanity; her beauty was a useful tool. She contemplated snubbing the shop, but as it happened, she was extremely fond of pumpkin suckers.

Inspiration: "Brand New Sucker" by Jonathan Coulton, plus a Halloween page on the calendar
Story Potential: Low.
Notes: Cute little vignette, but not a story idea.
2007-01-31 10:47 am

Cat Dancing in the Desert: Vignette

The cat danced in the moonlight, bounding over shadow obstacles and waltzing with dust motes that swirled through the desert air. Cacti watched indulgently, small owls peeping out from their nests and ruffling their feathers uncomfortably as they retreated. Cats weren't supposed to be out here. They knew that, but the intruder apparently did not. Once before the owl had seen a cat,. but it had been a sad, mangy starving thing that had crawled out into the desert to die. It had not bounded as exuberantly as the tawny coated creature cavorting in the moonlight far out on the high plains of the desert. The owl huddled lower over her eggs, trying to keep them warm in the chilly night.

Inspiration: Woot.com's picture of a dancing cat on a monitor.
Story Potential: Low.
Notes: This is more of a little tableau than anything else. I too wonder why the cat is there.
2006-07-10 09:26 pm

Wilting Black-Eyed Susan: Science Fiction

The black-eyed Susan was drying around the edges, looking as if it had just begun to wilt but still had some vigor to it. It looked exactly as it had twenty years ago, when she'd had it encased in a stasis field. The other flowers from the bouquet were long since dust, but that one survived. She kept it in a case hanging on the wall above her desk, as a perpetual reminder that sometimes, being half-dried dead wasn't a sign that things were just aging naturally. Sometimes, it meant that there was a conspiracy afoot. No decay should be attributed to nature. No death should be unsuspected. And one should never, ever ignore a bouquet of flowers that had been tossed casually in the trash in the middle of an event, even if they were slightly wilted around the edges.

Inspiration: What else? A black-eyed Susan, wilting in its vase.
Story Potential: High.
Notes: This has meat to it, in and of itself, but it doesn't really speak to a larger story. Still, I really like this little vignette.