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( Gray Morning )

Takahashi is forced to sit in a dark, desolate room. The chair he rests his laurels on is metal, uncomfortable and cold; its legs are uneven, causing him to teeter to the right. The air is stale and musty, sticking to the back of his throat as he eyes his interrogator. He does his best to keep his expression unreadable.

( 'Must we do this?' he asks, resting his back against the chair and folding his arms loosely over his chest. )

Stephanie glanced at her phone, frowning as it buzzed on her desk. The name Jeff stood out on the screen, causing her heart to quicken in her chest. What the hell could he possibly want now? After their “discussion” that morning, she would easily go the whole day without speaking to him again ( Read more... )

Sarah and I made a pact to start writing for an hour a day, to get into the habit of writing SOMETHING everyday all over again. This morning, my mind's been a little preoccupied with...other things, so I ended up writing several pieces for writerverse. This is one of them -- and, well, all of them involve the thing with which my mind is preoccupied ( Read more... )

I asked talonkarrde88 for a prompt a couple of weeks back. He gave me the prompt, "the last gas station," in response, and of course, I sat on it for a while. My first couple of attempts to fill it were complete shit. This, though? I like. I like it a lot. Buuuut... I have the feeling I might have created yet another universe to expand and fill in, later. ( Read more... )

A short story I wrote for writerverse's Table of Doom challenge. The prompt? Waking Dreams. Has a bit of a horror story feel and it was required to do it in second person POV. I'm kinda proud of it.

Your eyes snap open, the dark expanse of the ceiling above you reminding you that you are, in fact, in your room.

( Despite the familiarity of the ceiling, you can't turn your head. )

From the blog imagineyourOTP:

Imagine Person A of your OTP needs to get glasses. They don’t want to get glasses because they are worried about what Person B will think. Person A was worried for nothing because Person B thinks they look really cute.

This is what resulted:

"Jazz, we need to talk."

( Jazz sighed in frustration, putting his paperwork down in front of him as he pinched the bridge of his nose. )

I’ve been waiting for this day for months.

( I twirl the scalpel in my fingers, reveling in the way the light of my basement reflects off the smooth metal. )