Tag: writingprompt

Another week, another prompt from More Odds Than Ends. My week 10 prompt: Forensic analysis revealed… came from Fiona Grey Writes. It’s a continuation of my cursed dolls series that seems to be writing itself here on the blog.

Forensic Magic

Jack sighed and looked down at his porch. This was the third time in two weeks. Yet another dog carrying yet another doll had showed up on his doorstep. What the hell is going on? This is way more than one cranky witch.

The dog, a big German Shepherd this time, gave a small bark that turned into a whine. Jack let the dog sniff his hand before bending all the way down to pick up the doll.

“I know, buddy. I know. Come on inside and let’s see what we got.”

“Monica!” he yelled up the staircase. “I got another one! Can you feed the dog, please?”

He heard Monica running down from the second floor. “What the hell is going on? This is, what? The third one? That is not normal.”

In the kitchen, Jack made sure the dog got water while Monica dug out their remaining dog food. Their own dog had died about six months earlier and they had never gotten around to donating all the leftover food. Good thing, too. If this keeps up, we’ll need to actually buy more.

Jack looked for a note on the doll. The first two had managed to write a note with a short description of what had happened to them. Neither of them had managed to tell him who, exactly, had cursed them and shoved their spirit into a doll, and the first one, Renee Detweiler, had said that she couldn’t tell him. There had been spark of fear in her eyes and he had let the matter drop. Now, though…now, he was going to have to find her and get some information. This was too strange of a pattern to let it slide.

He found a small scrap of paper stuck in a pocket on the apron the doll was wearing. This doll looked a little bit like that famous ragdoll with the red hair. At least the apron had real pockets. He pulled the note out and unfolded the tiny piece of paper.

Hello,

My name is Susan Blackwell. As you can probably tell, I’ve been cursed into this doll. I’ve been told you can help me. The woman who did it is named Camilia Sharpe. She works with another woman, Armina Grove. They’re doing this to anybody who they feel is in their way. Even if you cannot get me out of this doll and back into my own form, please alert the Witches Council. Whatever it is, can’t be good. Oh, my dog is called Captain. Please take care of him.

Jack stared at the piece of paper. Great. His name was being bandied about among one group of witches or magic users who were getting on the wrong side of at least two witches who were then turning everybody into dolls.

“Monica, honey, I think this is going to get very weird and possibly very bad before it’s all over. Make sure you strengthen the wards around the house and yard as soon as possible. Like after you feed the dog. Oh, and his name’s Captain.” He looked up at his wife. Monica turned from feed Captain and stared at Jack.

“OK. I just did that a couple weeks ago, but I’ll double check. What’s going on?”

Jack nodded toward the doll. “This one, Susan Blackwell, named names and apparently my name is being passed around as a good curse-breaker. I mean I’m flattered, but still…” he trailed off.

“That will bring us some unwanted, probably nasty attention.” Monica finished for him.

“Yeah. OK, let’s get going.”

Jack took the doll and the dog into the living room. He grabbed a piece of paper and a small pencil and set them and the doll on the coffee table.

“I’m going to leave you here and go back into the kitchen. Please write down as much as you remember about the curse used on you and then send Captain in to get me. This way, I’ll be able to more quickly and easily break the curse.” He nodded to the doll, gave Captain a scratch on the ears, and went back into the kitchen. He considered pouring himself a stiff drink, but settled for sparkling water. I can drink after I break this curse. I’ll probably need it. He sighed and sat down at the table to wait for Captain.

Not two minutes after sitting down, Jack heard a sharp sound, like a shot almost, followed by frenzied barking coming from the living room. He dashed in to find the doll broken in half and Captain barking madly at a spot just behind the doll.

“OK, OK. Calm down, boy. Captain. Shhh.” Jack tried to quiet the dog and simultaneously assess the doll. In fact, this was likely fatal. Shit.

Monica came running in from the back yard at that point. “What happened? I just finished checking and reinforcing…oh, shit.” She said when she saw the doll.

“Yeah. I’m taking the doll and Captain and going to visit Rob. He’ll be able to tell me what happened.”

“OK. Please be careful. It’s possible that whoever detonated that spell, knew she was coming here.” Monica’s tone was worried, but she gave him a quick hug and carefully picked up the two halves of the doll and put them together in a small, decorative basket. Jack headed out the door with the basket, followed by Captain.

An hour later, Rob came back into the small foyer of the ME’s lab. His face was grim.

“Jack, I’m sorry. My forensic analysis shows that there is no animating spirit in this doll. The spell was designed to trigger when she was in your house. I don’t think it was meant to hurt you or Monica, though.”

Jack stared at him. “Shit. Now, it’s murder by witches. I’ll have to get a hold of the Witches Council.”

Rob nodded slowly.

Jack looked down at Captain, sitting next to his chair, and rubbed his head. “Well, boy. I guess your new home is with us. I’m really sorry.”

Captain whined and leaned against Jack’s leg.

*******

Thanks for reading! And, please do check out More Odds Than Ends for a good group of writers and some fun prompts.

Image by Emmanuel Lefebvre from Pixabay

It’s Week 8 of the More Odds than Ends prompts. Being a part of these eight weeks of prompts has been a voyage of self-discovery for me. Who knew I had the ability to write stories? Not me! I am having so much fin with these prompts and this new path for me.

So, here for your reading pleasure is my contribution to the Week 8 prompts. I got my prompt from Sanford Begley: Guy buys a funny looking fish tank at ye old curiosity shop. Takes it home and fills it with water. When it shows no signs of leaking he goes out and buys some goldfish. Comes home and sees the bottom of the tank brighter and more decorated. assumes that the water washed enough dust off to account for the change. Dumps the fish in and sits down with a cup of coffee. Kerplunk, something splashes his coffee. Looks down and there is an unhappy goldfish looking back. Glances up at the tank and sees another goldfish loaded in a catapult…

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Mark backed up a couple steps and looked carefully in the window of the vintage thrift shop. Yep, it was a fish tank. Looked kinda funky, with an odd sheen to the glass even under a coating of dust. Assuming it didn’t leak, it would be the perfect addition to his living room. Low maintenance, stress-relieving, very little extra work. He considered fish to be the perfect pets.

The bell jangled as he pushed open the door and walked into the shop. An old man, unkempt white hair billowing around his head, scurried in from the back.

“Good afternoon, sir! May I help you find something?” His voice was at the high end of the scale, but not unbearable.

“Good afternoon. Yes, please. How much is that fish tank over there?” Mark had hoped to get a closer look before committing, but that was not to be apparently.

“Oh, well. Yes, that’s a nice piece. It’s 25 dollars, sir. Are you planning on using it as a fish tank? I do not have any of the equipment for that…” the old gentleman trailed off looking a bit uneasy.

“That’s fine. I have all of that. I’ll take the tank.”

“Very well, sir. May I recommend that you let it sit with water for a few days before adding any fish? There may be some reactions once it’s been cleaned out.” The old man stared at him intently.

Mark nodded, but he was puzzled. What kind of reactions could glass have with water? It was a perfectly ordinary looking fish tank. It did have that odd sheen to the glass, but that was probably just because it was old.

Once back at home, Mark rinsed and cleaned the tank in the laundry room sink. He placed it on the kitchen table on top of a couple of old dish towels. If it leaked, it wouldn’t cause any problems. He filled it with water and left for his midday shift at the restaurant.

After a busy and stressful shift, damn, it’s a diner, not a Michelin 5-star restaurant! Why do people have to be so picky?, he finally got home at midnight. A glow caught his eye before he turned on the light as he walked in the front door. It was coming from the laundry room. What’s that?  

Mark walked into the laundry room to check on the fish tank. The cleaning had obviously done it some good; the glass was clear and the odd sheen was even brighter, and made the whole tank glow with suffused colors. He rinsed out the water wiped it down and added more water. So far, no leaking, but he’d see what things looked like in the morning. Just for fun, he added in the castle and a couple of fake plants he’d bought to decorate the tank for its future occupants.

The next day he decided it was safe to use the tank and went out to buy some goldfish. He was looking forward to setting up the tank and enjoying the peaceful experience of watching his fish.

Returning home, he put the baggie with the fish in it into the kitchen sink and went to fetch the tank out of the laundry room. Wait a minute. Did that castle have shiny gold paint on it? He shrugged. Must not have noticed it before. He carried the full tank into the living room, set up the aerator and went to get the goldfish. After he introduced the goldfish to their new home, he sat down with a cup of coffee to enjoy the serenity.

SPLOOSH.

Coffee splashed out of his cup and onto his shirt. Jumping up, he was startled to see a struggling goldfish in the hot coffee. He quickly scooped the poor thing out and dumped it into a glass of water he’d left on the coffee table earlier. He turned back to the fish tank and saw a small catapult. Standing next to the catapult, holding a struggling goldfish was something that looked like…a sea monkey?? Those aren’t real!?!

The creature turned and stared at him as it heaved the second goldfish into the bucket of the catapult. Another one was winding back the arm of the catapult. Where the hell did they come from?

“Wait! I’ll take the fish out! Don’t hurt them!” Mark wasn’t sure why he was so worried about the goldfish, but he didn’t really want any more fish flying around the living room. He grabbed the small net and fished out the remaining two goldfish and added them to the water glass. The first sea monkey nodded once and the two creatures disappeared back into the castle.

Mark shook his head, staring at the seemingly empty fish tank. I’ll figure it out later. He looked at the three fish in the water glass.

“OK, guys. Sorry about that. Let’s go look for that old fishbowl and I’ll get you a new tank…from the pet store…in the morning.” Was it his imagination, or did the fish look grateful?

*************

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think.

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

Over at More Odds Than Ends, it’s the Week 7 writing prompt challenge. This week my prompt was a photo which you can see over there. My brain is a bit fried from a very weird and stressful week at work, but this is what I came up with.

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“Mama, who’s this in the picture with Tío Joaquín?”
“Ah, that is his best friend Guillermo.”
“No, I mean others.”
“What others? There’s only Tío Joaquín and Guillermo.” Mamá sounded puzzled.
“Mira, Mamá, there’s a small boy, but it’s not me, and there’s somebody in a devil mask.” Adalberto glanced at his mother. Didn’t she see the other two in the photo?
Elena stared at her son. “Míjo, you can see them?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“Sí, Mamá. What’s going on?”
Elena took a deep breath. If Adalberto could see the other two, she had to explain the young angel and the devil he’d defeated.

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If you are at all interested, please do go over and check out the prompts. There are always spare prompts if you haven’t sent one in, and it would be great to see the group grow!

Image by Günther Simmermacher from Pixabay

Once again it’s prompt time from More Odds than Ends. This week’s prompt allowed me to continue my story about Jack and his run-ins with cursed dolls. I like where this is going and I’m getting an idea for a book and maybe even a series. We’ll see. Let me know what you think.

Week 6 prompt: I was sitting at my kitchen table when I heard a knock on the door. I looked out the window, but no one was there. When I opened the door I saw…

Breaking Curses

The knock at the door came just as Jack was raising what he considered to be a well-earned cup of tea to his lips. He took a sip, and sighing, set down the cup. The knock had come from the front door, not the outside door of his home office, so it was probably just a delivery, but still…I just wanted an uninterrupted ten minutes to enjoy my tea.

He glanced out the kitchen window which allowed a partial view of the front porch. There was nobody there. Huh. Hope they just left the package and it’s not another dog carrying a cursed doll.

Last week had been interesting. The arrival of a (very friendly) dog carrying a doll that turned out to be a woman cursed by a cranky witch, had caused him to rearrange most of his calendar. He’d been looking forward to this week which had a more normal, and even a bit lighter, appointment schedule.

But, working as a free-lance curse-breaker meant you couldn’t really set hours too much. Jack sighed again. Let’s go see what this package is. I don’t remember what I ordered.

He walked to the front door and opened it. Looking down, expecting to see a Mage Express package, he was not prepared for another doll. A Barbie doll. This time backed up by a small Yorkshire terrier. The doll was almost the same size as the Yorkie. How the hell did such a small dog manage to carry that doll?

More importantly, what the hell was going on? One cursed doll every six months or so was normal. Two in one week?

He bent down and carefully picked up the doll. “Come on,” he said to the Yorkie who was whining and looking anxious. The dog followed him into the house.

Image by Alexas_Fotos from Pixabay

Week 5 of More Odds than Ends writing prompts. If you would like to join in (please do! The more the merrier!) just go to More Odds Than Ends and read through the first post for the rules.

My prompt was: You hear a strange tap, tap, tapping at your door. When you open the door to see what is out there, there is a doll standing there, arm raised…

Curses

The sound of the stuttered tapping at the door cut through Jack’s concentration. Slightly annoyed he looked up at the clock. Almost six o’clock in the evening. There were no more appointments today. Who was at the door? Sighing heavily, he stood up and walked across the small office to the outer door.

Working from home had its advantages in terms of commutes. Going through the interior door put him in the living room of his house. Ten steps from his desk to the door and he was home. So, it wasn’t as if this late visitor was going to cause him to get home at some ungodly hour. He reminded himself to be grateful and opened the outer door.

A whine and half bark greeted him and directed his gaze downward. A black and white pitbull-lab mix dog was at the door, sitting behind a doll. The doll was standing in front of the door with one arm raised as if it had knocked. Jack looked around and saw no-one else. The dog whined again and gently picked up the doll in its mouth and trotted into the office.

“Hey, wait. Where are you going?” Jack sighed once more. It was clearly going to be one of those evenings. He followed the dog back into the office.

The dog carefully set the doll back on its feet again, arm still raised, and looked up expectantly at Jack. It looked back down at the doll and nudged it toward Jack, pushing the arm that was at the doll’s side. It was then that Jack noticed the small piece of paper in the doll’s hand. He sat down on the floor next to the doll and carefully pulled the piece of paper out of its hand. The dog’s tail wagged briefly while it continued to gaze at Jack.

The cramped, awkward hand-writing was difficult to read at first. It was as if a small child was writing with a pen that was about three sizes too big for their hand.

I’ve been cursed and forced into this doll. I know that you are a specialist in curse reversal and I’m hoping you can help. I can only move and speak when no-one is around. Apparently, Max (my dog) doesn’t count as “anybody”. Fortunately for me, he’s trained as a guide dog and brought me here. He probably needs some food and water at this point.

Thank you,
Renee Detweiler

Jack ran a hand through his hair. Great. Somebody else pissed off some cranky witch and got themselves stuffed into a doll. He looked at the doll.

“OK. Yes, I can help. But this is not going to be easy.”

Max whined again and picked up the doll, pushing it into Jack’s hand.

*******
Thanks for reading! Please do click on the links above if you’re interested in stretching your imagination and writing skills!

Image by Pete Linforth from Pixabay

I forgot to send in a prompt to More Odds than Ends this week. But, one of the nice things is that there are always spare prompts. The one I picked was: Dragons are real, and there’s now one curled up at your front door like a stray cat demanding a home.

Once again, it’s time for prompts from More Odds Than Ends. Many thanks to ‘nother Mike who created this prompt. It’s so true that practicing writing makes it better. These prompts have improved my writing in the fiction area, just like I improved in the academic area. It’s something I emphasize to my students. But, sometimes, we need to practice what we preach and see things grow for themselves. I’m grateful I have these opportunities to practice and get feedback.

Prompt: Your kids sent in your DNA samples for analysis, and the company wrote back, explaining that they only do human DNA analyses… What do you tell them? Describe that scene with your kids.

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The kids came crashing in through the front door, chattering in excitement. Standing in the kitchen, I couldn’t quite make out what they were talking about, but the level of excitement made me smile. Triplets, like twins, often develop their own language and unique communication characteristics and my crew was no exception.

“Mom! Mom! A letter came for you!” Trystan was the oldest (by three minutes) of the group and often took the lead. I think the other two deferred to him without even thinking about it.

“OK. But, why the excitement? We get mail all the time.” I smiled as I took the proffered envelope. Glancing at the return address, I felt my heart sink a bit. Oh, dear. There was going to be some explaining to do here.

Genetic History, Inc. was one of those mail in a swab and we’ll tell you about your genetic background companies.

“Um, guys, what is this?” I kept my expression neutral as I looked at three identical excited faces.

“It’s your birthday present! We saw an ad on TV and thought it would be fun to find out where we all come from! Read it!” Padrig, the “youngest”, was the explainer and chief negotiator.

“OK.” I knew what the letter was going to say, but how was I going to break the information to the kids? Well, I guess I’d have to make it up as I went along. The anticipation was getting mixed in with some anxiety now. They were wondering why I wasn’t as excited as they were and as they expected me to be.

“OK,” I said again and opened the small package. Inside was a small vial and a single sheet of paper. I put the vial aside and unfolded the sheet of paper. Clearing my throat and taking a deep breath, I started reading it out loud.

Dear Ms. Griffin,

Thank you for submitting your DNA sample to Genetic History, Inc. We greatly appreciate your trust in our company.

Unfortunately, we are only equipped to analyze human DNA, and therefore we are unable to process your submitted sample. In the interests of privacy, we have returned your sample. Should you wish to pursue your genetic research we recommend that you submit your sample to HumanFae Ancestry (HFA, Inc.). They are a highly reliable organization specializing in the analysis of non-human DNA.

Thank you again for your confidence in us and the best of luck in your genetic research.

Sincerely,

Ronald L. Barclay, CEO
Genetic History, Inc.

The silence in the kitchen was deafening. I raised my eyes from the letter to see three astonished faces gaping at me.

“What does that mean? Non-human? Didn’t they do the test?” My “middle” child, Anwyn, was the worrier and the one who didn’t like things to go sideways. Clearly finding out that mom was not human was the ultimate in things going sideways.

“Guys, you know how much I love you. But, yeah. There is one thing I didn’t tell you yet. I was kind of hoping to do this in about a year, but I guess we’ll do it now. Let’s go sit on the sofa.” I moved into the family room and plopped myself down in the middle of our well-used couch. The kids slowly followed and arranged themselves in their usual pattern around me. Trystan on my left; Arwyn and Padrig on my right. This was our pattern when we read to each other or watched TV or movies together. When their dad was home, he sat on the other side of Arwyn. This sofa and our seating arrangement on it represented our family together time.

I looked at each of them. Their faces were alive with curiosity. I smiled. I couldn’t be any more proud of them than I was right now.

“Let me tell you everything and then you can ask all the questions you want and I’ll do my best to answer them. Deal?”

Three heads nodded in unison.

“OK. I’m not human. I’m not a monster. At least not like something out of a story. But, I’m not human. I’m fae. That’s somebody from what your books call fairy people. I was sent away many years ago because the Queen became very angry with me. I wound up here and met your father. We were very happy for many years. We were extremely happy when we found out I was pregnant with you three. Fae have a very difficult time having children, so the idea that we were going to have three children was exciting.” I paused, assessing their expressions.

“Mom? Can I ask a question now?” Trystan’s voice was hesitant.

“Yes, sweetheart. What is it?” The hesitation in his voice tugged at my heart. I didn’t want my children to be afraid to ask me questions.

“You’re…a…fairy?”

“Yes. Does that bother you?”

Three voices came back in a chorus. “That’s SO COOL!!”

I had to laugh. I had worried about having this talk, but I guess those fears were overblown. I settled in to answer the flurry of questions that were being fired at me.

*******************

This one was a lot of fun to write. I love the mix of “real world” with supernatural. These are the worlds I like to write in. I think this one has the potential for at least a short story if not more. I’m going to let it marinate for a while.

Image by Stefan Keller from Pixabay