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Fun Hops IWSG

28 Days #WEPFF Challenge featuring The Sarah Cycle #amwriting #flashfiction

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The Sarah Cycle

Day 28- Sarah is sad again. Melissa was taken to the hospital today. Sarah was told the girl would likely not return. Sarah decided to watch puppy videos online to console herself.

Day 1, First Impression- Today, Sarah got to meet Abby. Abby seems eager to connect with Sarah, but Sarah seems apprehensive to interact with this new girl.

Day 3- Abby has been leaving puzzles and riddles for Sarah to solve on the table in the center of the room. The girl seems to be tickled at how quickly Sarah solves each one. Sarah has made no attempt to interact with Abby other than to solve her riddles and puzzles.

Day 5, First Attributes- Abby seems to be losing interest in getting to know Sarah just as Sarah seems to be showing an interest in Abby. Abby has started solving many of the puzzles and riddles on her own without asking Sarah for input.

Day 7, First Indirect Contact- Abby fell today when she grew bored with puzzles and decided to time herself running the length of the room. Sarah reached out to console Abby, but then quickly pulled away. Sarah called out for help and offered Abby a teddy bear to hold until someone came to help.

Day 8- Sarah asked if Abby would be back tomorrow and smiled when she learned that Abby would return after a day of rest.

Day 9- Today, Sarah greeted Abby when she arrived and the two played together all day. When it was time for Abby to leave, she reached out to hug Sarah, but Sarah told her maybe they could hug another day. Abby tilted her head and then shrugged before waving goodbye.

Day 12, First Symptoms- The girls enjoyed another day of play, but Abby soon grew tired of bouncing around. When Sarah asked if she could read to Abby, she quickly requested three of her favorite books for Sarah to read.

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Day 15- Each day the girls play less and less but seem to enjoy each other’s company more and more. Abby adores the way Sarah reads to her, expressing that she wished adults would read to her with such funny voices.

Day 18, Secondary Symptoms- Abby arrived late to play time today and Sarah yelled at her that she was very worried. Abby said that she wasn’t feeling well but didn’t want to miss their play time. Instead of their usual game of tag, Sarah suggested they start with a game of hot and cold, it did not require either of them to run in order to play it.

Day 19, First Contact- Today when Abby was getting ready to leave, Sarah asked for a hug. Abby hesitated at first and asked if Sarah was sure she wanted a hug. Sarah said, “Yes. I want to hug you because you are the best best-friend I’ve ever had.”

Day 22, Final Symptoms- Abby arrive late to play time again, but Sarah didn’t yell at her. She prepared a special reading nook for Abby to lay in and told her, upon arrival, that she would sing and dance for her before reading some of her favorite stories.

Day 25- Abby didn’t arrive to play time today and Sarah was very upset. She asked for Abby all day. Sarah refused to eat or play with any of her toys.

Day 26, Critical Condition- Abby came to play time today, but she could barely hold her head up or keep her eyes open. Sarah told her it was fine and that she would take care of her. Sarah set Abby up in the special reading nook she’d made for her a few days before.

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Day 27- After a day of singing, dancing, and reading to Abby, Sarah gave her a big hug and told her she couldn’t wait to see her again the next day.

Day 28- Sarah is sad again. Abby was taken to the hospital today. Sarah was told the girl would likely not return. Sarah decided to watch sloth videos online to console herself.

~

FCA- 677-words- The Sarah Cycle 2019 Copyright © Toinette J. Thomas

Please visit other entries in this hop (February 1-20) and enjoy some funny, scary, touching, and thought-provoking stories. You’ll be so glad you did. Look for names with DL next to it.

Thank you for taking the time to read this post. If you like it let me know and share it with others. See you next time, Toi Thomas. #thetoiboxofwords

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Fun Hops IWSG

Ribbons and Candles #WEPFF Challenge featuring Tilly and The Arbol Tree #amwriting #flashfiction

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Tilly and The Arbol Tree

Lucy was the last Griffin to light the Arbol Tree and that was over a century ago. The Arbol tree has been good to the people of Meiland, with its aquatic borders and intimate population of five distinct tribes, each made of five ancient families. The Arbol Tree glows bright green throughout the year, taking only one night of rest. The light of the Arbol Tree warms and nurtures the soil, alternates and regulates the weather, and produces the Arbol Fruit. The Arbol’s red seeds, green leaves, pink flowers, yellow to orange fruit, and even its violet bark are used in all Meiland meals and because of this, the people remain youthful and spirited until they greet their long sleep.

On the day the Arbol Tree fizzles out and takes up rest, the Meiland people hold a splendid celebration. The Griffins have provided the silk ribbons for the festival for as long as anyone can remember. With infants dressed as round plump fruits, unpromised youth adorned with leaves, mated couples donning pink flowers over their hearts, and revered elders wrapped in violet shrouds, the entire island marches through streets draped with red ribbons and lit candles burning with white flames.

The Griffins had once been the highest respected family of the Textile tribe. When Lucy was given the honor to light the Arbol Tree, she had won over the Council of Favor by presenting each member with hand stitched silk scarves with detailed Arbol Trees embroidered from one end to the other. No matter the style in which the scarves were worn, the Arbol Tree was always front and center. All few remaining Council members from that time still donned their scarves while those who’ve greeted their long sleep have had them sealed in glass and put on display in their memory. Not since Lucy has any Tree Lighter, especially not a Griffin, impressed the Council of Favor as much or had such a lasting legacy.

Tilly, in her mind, was a lot like Lucy. She too was a silk-shaper, the youngest in history to take on the craft in a professional capacity. Unlike Lucy, Tilly did not yet have a grand plan or idea to win over the Council of Favor, but she was determined that she would light the Arbol Tree and restore the Griffin family to a place of honor. Tilly toyed with ideas such as silk hats decorated with Arbol fruits and sashes painted with Arbol flowers, but she knew these were ideas that had been done before by other members of her tribe. No; Tilly needed to come up with something new, something that had never been done before, and something that would depict the Arbol Tree in the best light throughout the year, and hopefully throughout time.

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The day of the Grand Celebration was a busy one. All five tribes gathered to show off their crafts and share meals and entertaining performances before settling down to meet with the Council of Favor just before midnight. Tilly spent most of her day wrapping ribbons around infant’s heads, unpromised’s wrists, mated’s lapels, and elder’s necks. This was the first year she didn’t join the other unpromised in circle dances or street chanting. No; Tilly wouldn’t celebrate too much. She was too busy keeping a close eye on her offering to the Council and storing up the courage to present it to them.

At the gathering of the Council, Tilly sat near the back, not yet ready to reveal her offering. She had not even proclaimed to her tribe she would be making an offering. The Griffins hadn’t presented an offering in twenty years and the Textile tribe had forgotten to present the previous year, too busy and consumed with making and preparing ribbons for the Grand Celebration.

The Planter tribe presented the Council with decorated packages of delicious rainbow grains with preparation instructions included. The Ore tribe brought smiles to the Council member’s faces when they presented ruby lapel pins carved to look like the Arbol seed. Tilly knew it would be difficult to top that. The Construct tribe presented golden door handles shaped like the Arbol Fruit and the Game tribe presented roasted Meiland; the elusive fish for which the island was named. Before the Council could gather to decide who to grant the honor too, Tilly stepped forward, dragging a large bundle behind her. She proclaimed that the Griffins of the Textile tribe would present an offering.

In a flurry, Tilly began to pull strips of silk, satin, lace, and more from her bundle, dancing around the gathered crowd, folding, bending, twisting, and stitching with fervor. The spectacle of the flying fabric and dancing colors delighted the crowd and brought cheery smiles to the faces of the Council members. When at last Tilly had completed her dance, before each member of the Council stood a miniature Arbol Tree with red seeds inlaid at the roots, a violet trunk supporting green leaves, pink flowers, and yellow fruit. Tilly received a standing ovation.

The Head Council Member stepped toward Tilly with a golden candle bearing the white flame and bid her blessings as she faced the Tree. Taking the candle in hand, Tilly approached the Tree and gazed up at its seemingly unending height before stepping through its thick dry branches and disappearing from sight. Moments later, the Arbol was ablaze, crackling and sparkling; slowly fading into an emerald glow.
~
FCA- 904-words- Tilly and The Arbol Tree 2018 Copyright © Toinette J. Thomas

Please visit other entries in this hop and enjoy some funny, scary, touching, and thought-provoking stories. You’ll be so glad you did.



Thank you for taking the time to read this post. If you like it let me know and share it with others. See you next time, Toi Thomas. #thetoiboxofwords

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Fun Hops IWSG

Déjà vu or Voodoo #WEPFF Challenge featuring The Nameless Ingenue #amwriting #flashfiction

Yeah, I’m way early again this month, but I can’t do anything else with this story so I might as well post it.

Sometimes I fear my mind goes to dark places. For that reason, I try to steer clear of dark themes, yet they always seem to find me. Most of my adult fiction has some sort of dark theme, outside of my romantic efforts. This theme, for some reason, really spoke to me. Don’t know why. The day I really paid attention to what the theme was, I wrote the story below.

Just in case: you’ll see the word “ingenue”, pronounced (an – zhuh – noo) <– real phonics OR (on – zjay – new) <– my phonics, lol ;).

~

The Nameless Ingenue

The nameless ingenue and the revered champion met on the dance floor, searching each other out like constellations in the night. They’d made it; together at last. She in her pearly linens clinging to her timid flesh that radiated with hope and unrequited passion. He in his clanging metals and silken coat, spread taut across his muscled form, pulsating with unquenched desire.

Their bodies drawn into one another, melting into gliding and swaying limbs. Their toes barely graced the sheen of the dance floor before their shoulders dipped into an unending embrace. Their lips pressed together in a tender massage, as though one was resuscitating the other. Their hands reaching and groping as though there were no other lovers sharing the dance floor.

When their lips parted, and their eyes gazed into each other’s souls, the ingenue felt something tugging at her heart. There was a subtle ache as she tore her eyes away, darting her focus around the room. Her eyes landed on a glass of Champaign with her reflection waving at her mockingly. She understood then, this is not how it was supposed to happen.

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The nameless ingenue and the revered champion met on the dance floor, hungry to hold each other tightly. They’d made it; together at last. She in her white lace wrapped around her supple flesh excited to face her first lover. He in his coat of jewels and metals, sparkling with strength and confidence as he prepared to claim his prize.

Eagerly, she reached for the champion, desperate to offer him her body. Like a king at court, the champion accepted the gift of her flesh and squeezed it tight, shocking the horrified onlookers. Gasping in terror, the ingenue pleaded with her eyes and clawed at the vice grip around her body. The champion swept the floor with her dangling feet, forcing her into a deadly waltz.

Sniggering with ominous elation, the champion twisted red rings around the ingénue’s neck. The pain of betrayal sent her eyes reeling with regret and searching for understanding. With her eyelids slipping towards oblivion, she glanced at her dying body, reflected in a glass of Champaign. She understood then, this is not how it was supposed to end.

The nameless ingenue and the revered champion met on the dance floor, eager to claim each other’s hearts. They’d made it; together at last. She in her borrowed white gown, hugging the smooth flesh of her supple body. He in his silk coat and achievement ribbons; his chest puffed in adoration and pride.

Eyes fluttering, and hands pressed against her heart, the ingenue waited for her champion to embrace her. Boldly wrapping his arms around her waist, forgoing formalities, the champion pressed his lips against his prize. Together the lovers embraced and savored the sweetness of passion fulfilled.

When they’d drawn a sufficient crowd, the ingenue raised her hand to the champion’s neck and stabbed him with a blade that had been concealed beneath her laces. The champions body fell limp and tumbled to the floor; shock and heartbreak distorting his once handsome features. Dancing lovers parted the floor, fleeing the menace radiating in the ingenue’s eyes as the blade in her hand raised and lowered again and again.

Surrounded by horrified revelers, an ache shot through her heart and she fell to the floor searching for understanding. Hands clinching the fabric over her heart, she tossed and turned, trying to shield her eyes from the violence she rained down on her lover. She caught a glimpse at her reflection in a half-cracked glass of Champaign and she understood. The ingénue understood; this is how it was all supposed to end.

Huddled under the elegant cloth of the banquet table, the sister’s eyes sparkled with glee. With flushed cheeks and heaving breaths, she clutched the handmade ragdolls as though her life depended on it. The dark doll had been torn down the back, its stuffing of cotton and hair spilling onto the floor. She tossed the white doll, now stained with red wine, to the end of the table’s length and sighed in relief. She had enjoyed her playtime and was satisfied with the result of her game.
~
FCA- 701-words- The Nameless Ingenue 2018 Copyright © Toinette J. Thomas

Well. That’s that. Did it feel like déjà vu?
Did it make you think of Puppet Master? (I kind of had that in mind.)
Too creepy; not creepy enough?

Please, take some time to read other stories in this hop. All stories should be posted by October 17th, but early entries arrive daily. Look for any name or link with DL next to it to enjoy a short story. I guarantee you will laugh, cry, be terrified, and more.



Thank you for taking the time to read this post. If you like it let me know and share it with others. See you next time, Toi Thomas. #thetoiboxofwords