Over the Edge

[Prompt: Use these seven words in your story: smug, substantial, meddle, slink, ethereal, artisanal, convolute ]

    Clara really wanted to slap that smug look off her ex-boyfriend’s face. He had no right to meddle in her affairs. They had broken up over a month ago and she wanted nothing to do with him and his ‘artisanal’ ways. Stupid hipster. What she ever saw in him she might never know, because it certainly wasn’t his convoluted arguments about how he thought she was mediocre. If he found her so below his expectations, she had to wonder why he was bothering to harass her. He had purposely stalked her while she was on a date so that he could ambush them later and bait her into a heated argument until her date awkwardly fled the scene. She had been so embarrassed and all her ex could do was grin victoriously.

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[Prompt: The year is 2050. Everyone has a chip in their body. You are a nurse at an ER. Someone comes in without one. ]

     Chaos didn’t quite meet the level of disfunction that currently surrounded me. Crying and moans of pain came from every direction, doctors and nurses barked orders at one another, moving equipment, beds, body parts. I stared at the flow of insanity pouring in through the Emergency Room doors, unable to command my body. Like a deer in the headlights, I stood still and unmoving, not sure of what was about to hit me.
     A hand gripped my shoulder and shook me, ripping me free of the daze. I nearly dropped my MedPad as I jumped in response. My eyes shot to Ann’s face.

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The Old Man

[Prompt: One day at home you are dusting off your pictures on the wall and you notice in all of the pictures there is a tall elderly man in a black button down suit standing in all of them but you’ve never noticed it before ]

     “Mark? Mark, are you listening to me?”
     I was sitting on a couch. I looked around the room, confused about my location. A large landscape painting dominated the wall above a desk. I looked to my right at the woman sitting in the chair. Her legs were crossed, skirt stopping just above the knees, grey blazer over a white blouse. She looked professional. Oh. She was professional. My doctor. Dr…
     “Mark? Are you here?”
     “Y-yes,” my throat felt dry. I cleared it, my voice was more steady as I spoke again, “Yes, sorry, I’m here Dr. Lima.”
     I’m sure the smile she directed at me was meant to be polite, maybe even encouraging. But to me, it just seemed sad. It seemed like she was pitying me.

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The Old Man – WriteSemper

[Prompt: One day at home you are dusting off your pictures on the wall and you notice in all of the pictures there is a tall elderly man in a black button down suit standing in all of them but you’ve never noticed it before ]

    Kristen paused in her Sunday ritual of cleaning house to closer inspect the pictures on the wall. She had been dusting the frames when something strange caught her eye. In each of the photographs an old man could be seen standing in the back. He was dressed in a black button down suit, his face sallow, and his hair nonexistent. Checking each of the pictures, Kristen saw him in the background in the newer pictures as well as ones from before her time. Kristen knew for a fact that he had not been there last Sunday when she had dusted.

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The Call – WriteSemper

[Prompt: Thinking you’re just playing along, you take a  toy phone offered by a two year old. To your surprise, a voice from the phone says “Thank goodness! Listen, here’s what you have to do.. ]

    I never liked Gina’s backyard barbecue parties. The only reason I accepted her invitation and bothered showing up, was because in High School we had been best friends. Back then we were inseparable. We knew each others secrets and we lived to spend every day in each other’s company. Some people thought we were sisters, others thought we were secretly dating, but mostly people just didn’t understand the deeper connect shared between me and Gina.
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Losing the Light – WriteSemper

[Prompt: She was all of the light I had in the world ]

    She was all the light I had in the world. Without her, I was powerless to stop the darkness.
    I first noticed the change that evening while I washed dishes. The window above the sink looked out toward the woods. The sun had yet to begin to truly set, but already the shadows beneath the trees were thick. I had set my hands against the lip of the sink to steady myself as I watched the tendrils of darkness snake out past the tree line before shrinking back under the trees. The branches and grass shuddered against the phantom touch and swayed unnaturally against the breeze. Terrified of the approaching night, I turned on all of the outdoor lighting. Aside from the trees on the very end of the property, my yard was clear of any landscaping that might cast an obtrusive shadow. I checked the backup generator in case the wind might conspire with the night to torment me. When the sun began to kiss the horizon, I retreated inside to repeat the process of turning on lights and gathering up flashlights and other battery powered light sources to protect myself. I had once tried using candles, but flames cast their own series of dancing shades that could touch places where the light was strong.
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