This is the introductory piece for a solo RPG I've been playing called One Day at a Thyme. I'll add a few of the 'diary entries' as I go... There’s a town at the base of the mountain, it’s hoping to grow into a city soon and the new buildings are already starting to wash …
This was inspired by a group chat about Tolkien's house coming up for sale. One of the group members wrote the message below, and it prompted an idea... I wonder if Tolkien haunts it. Like you could leave your book half written and at night his ghost could come and write more of it for …
The boy looking across the basketball court at her, liked her. Emma wasn't sure. His stare looked assessing, even suspicious, not admiring. But Sadie knew a lot more about buys than she did, she had three big brothers after all, while Emma had was a much older sister who wasn't around much and didn't have …
A one-off scene from the above prompt. In a little glade, tucked into the far reaches of the forest, with room for nothing more than a tiny pool, made by a spring of the purest water, there was a soft movement of air. The birds nesting in the trees surrounding the pond tilted their heads …
This piece came from a prompt in a webinar on Idea Generation from Jericho Writers. It's thoroughly silly and I had a lot of fun writing it. Please ignore gaping loopholes and lack of logic. Gen looked up from the folder she was glaring at when her assistant knocked on the office door frame. She …
Shara's stories were a gateway to another world. Unlike the other bards and storytellers scattered about the market square and by the fires of the taverns at night, she only told stories of one place, but what stories they were. Full of fire and flight, colour and smoke and steam and emotion bounding through every …
Prompt: You have been kidnapped by a cult preparing to sacrifice you to their god. Problems? You’re immortal, the god they worship is a close friend of yours and the entire cult was the result of a prank you forgot you pulled centuries ago. Jared returned to consciousness with an irritated snarl, he did not …
She stormed through the door, slamming it behind her, Crys spinning into the room through the chimney to keep an eye on things. “You jumped up little trollop. I know what you’re about and it won’t work. I am the leader of the fluffies and you will never be able to take my place.” Sariya …
I'm a member of an online writing group that's working its way through Steering the Craft by Ursula Le Guinn. Each week we move to the next chapter and its attendant writing exercise. A recent one asked us to create a piece using repetition as a theme. It sort of ran away with me. Rose …
Marcus grimaced, "I appreciate you respecting their dignity and trying to do the right thing, but you might want to bear in mind that none of them can keep a secret to save themselves." "So if we were to have a little chat, it'll be all over the castle." "Before lunch. It's another reason every …
The DNA of Stories 