December 2014

Hey, all! I hope that NaNoWriMo went well for you. You all should go congratulate our other Founder NamelessShe, won early on in the month and annihilated that word count! I also won but with a not-so-impressive word count. To be honest I was more distracted playing pokemon than writing, but we won't dwell on that. Feel free to share your final word count with us, we would love to hear it. Now let's get right into the people who posted something way back in October for HugQueen's prompt!

October 2014

Man IN The MirrorI felt the circuits curl beneath my skin.
The moves I make feel like they have been programmed into my body.
For I do not make them myself;
They are executed by a second party.
Sitting straight but a mouth so crooked, living poor but proud.
A gypsy man peered into my soul.
His fluid green eyes stare into mine,
Knowing without his presence I would not feel whole.
His thoughts are his own,
yet I share his individual mind.
Why can I not escape this robotic form?
And disengage from feeling entwined?
Looking into his eyes, I begin to question his sanity.
Why is he even here?
I never requested an appearance.
After all, he sits before me, looking into this vanity.
He stares in wonder, sharing thoughts but utters no word.
I know he sees himself,
but does he see me?
Please say something and have a voice, so that I may be heard.
His lips part, bearing yellow teeth, without a glottal shift or sound.
At this point I realize,
I am his reflection in the mirror.
I am his robot, his opposite, the gyps The fortune tellerI felt the circuits curl beneath my skin,
the wires becoming red-hot pokers burning through flesh
I watched as the moon rose and the stars plummeted to the earth,
with the burning wires charring my soul.
The cool breezes washing my burns clean,
the darkness becoming one with my heart.
I stood there,
inanimate as the caravan passed on the way to peace,
far far away from here.
Oh how I longed to speak to them,
the move my rusty hinges like a well-oiled machine,
to prove I wasn't obsolete just yet.
But they passed by me in a blaze of color,
leaving me with the impression of light and warmth before they passed into the distance..
except one.
Like a moth drawn to flame, 
A young man with long hair blacker than my scorched heart walked slowly to me,
something almost regal in his step.
A small procession follows him as he picks his way across this barren wasteland to my feet.
With delicate, 
small, 
beautiful hands,
he takes my palm in his,
and traces the lines upon it,
his mou Friday Flash - 'Gridblocked'It was a cool afternoon in autumn. Soft rays of sun, diffused by seasonal haze and the auto-tint windows of the bar where I worked, added little illumination to that provided by the overhead lights. The owner refused to pay for streaming service beyond the required minimum, so the wall screen was set to the usual Public Broadcasting and its 24/7 government-operated newsfeed; the volume was set to the lowest allowable level.
Business was slow. Conroy occupied his usual stool. Two other patrons, pale, dark-haired men, occupied chairs at a small table at the other end of the room; they wore civvies but each bore the distinctive demeanor of a born-and-bred Fed. DHS Agents, I was sure. Agents like to think they can blend in with the lower classes, but that’s what Management is for. Agents consider undercover duty a reward, an assignment based on skill, but we all know it’s because their bosses want us to know we’re being watched.
I wondered why they were there—routin

December 2014

Theme: Childhood
Start Date: December 1st 12:00 AM PST
End Date: December 31st 11:59 PM PST

Prompts:

Stuffed Animals talk, but only you can hear them
Starting line - 'Grandma, Billy pulled my hair and gave me a wet willy!'
Setting - Snow is falling in a park as the sun is setting and the leafless trees are groaning against the wind

Note: You are free to use any prompt you want, it does not have to be all of them or any of them. You can use prompts from other sources if you choose, they are just there to give you some inspiration as you write about the theme.

[Sorry this is late!]