fantasy

He watches me, leg rising from the tepid bathwater, as I step down onto the tiled floor. I flip clear my wet, caramel hair and look back at him, seeing his eyes slid down my tattooed spine and linger on my backside. I reach for my robe, but he seizes it in quick fingers, and folds it over his arm.

“You’re like a Degas painting,” he says, his smile pure honey. “Woman in a bath. You know it?”

“What do you want, Noah.” I turn, and he sees I’ve released my claws.

“I got a job for the wolf.”

(Inspired by a Edgar Degas painting & written for The Prediction. Challenge words: caramel, Degas, seize )

Telan held the brittle shard of ice candy in her tiny, dirt-streaked palm, and tried not to cry. 

“Do you not like it?” the young woman asked. Her accented voice was confused, as she stared at the orphan.

“I-I do,” Telan said quickly, swiping at her eyes. “It just reminds me of Papa.”

“Ah.” The woman knelt and placed a hand on Telan’s shoulder. Her sculptured face seemed more metal than flesh, the skin painted gray, and her eyes shiny inside rings of black. “Memories make us weak, little one.” 

She stepped closer, blocking Telan’s view of the blood-washed courtyard.

(Written for The Prediction. Challenge words: brittle, orphan, sculpture)

Bell eyed the mountain with all the affection of a half-starved cat contemplating revenge. She shoved herself upright, wincing as the torn skin of her knees stretched and complained. Her backpack lay half a foot away, the extraneous contents Josie had insisted she bring, scattered across the mossy stones, and muddy ground.

“One way to be weaned off hiking forever,” Bell grumbled.

“Did you break anything?” The voice floated beside her ear, hopeful, familiar and insufferable.

“Just my pride.”

“An indelible mark, perhaps?”

Bell grabbed the skull, and scowled at the empty sockets. “Shut up, Josie. We’re almost there.”

(Written for The Prediction. Challenge words: extraneous, indelible, wean)