SweetCatMint

Prompt: Blooming Blossom Words: 810 — Step One: Invitation - It was chance, that’s all, when I stumbled into his influence, lost and confused - He smiled, all charm and debonair, there were no coincidences, only God’s will - I was bashful, shy to take his hand - He promised everything. Promised a little songbird like me would be safe in his sanctuary - He called himself Hawk - I asked what it meant for a canary to be in front of a bird of prey - Protection, he said, his talons would keep the cats at bay Step Two: Love bomb - I met his flock, each and every bird at his sanctuary. - They smiled and sang, sweet siren songs of kindred spirits - It felt right, to belong. Like I was meant to be there - I chirped along, so sweet and innocent, preening their feathers and winning their hearts - Still, I never strayed.I stayed closest to Hawk, a favourite pet without a name, ready with which ever song he desired - No one knew I was missing until I had been found Step Three: The prize on

Prompt: Mysterious Masquerade Words: 568 —- He grinned under that rabbit mask. She needn’t look to see his teeth, white as moonlight, flashing below a bunny’s button nose. He a rabbit, her a fox, twirling surrounded by uniform black dogs. He revelled in the irony. “Princess,” he purred, voice barely louder than the lilting string orchestra and yet still clear as an evening bell. “Aren’t you having fun? You haven’t smiled even once. As a host, it breaks my heart.” “As a captive, your heart is no concern of mine.” The waltz was easy to follow, slow rhythmic steps one after the other. He led, but only because she allowed it. He spun her delicately, pulling her closer as her skirts settled. The warmth of his touch against the small of her back strictly non-offensive. He may be her villain but he needn’t be less than gentlemanly. “Don’t be so cruel, Princess. It isn’t like you to treat your belongings so callously.” “You haven’t a single thing I covet, least of all your heart.” Her

Prompt: Furry Friend Words: 1033 Character(s): Echo — It’s a beautiful morning. The sky is clear, the grass is dewy, birds are singing, and you are terrorising the local lizard population. Of course, in your young mind ‘terrorising’ isn’t the word you would use. You’re not even entirely sure you know what it means. If you were asked, you would claim you and the lizards are engaged in a mutually enjoyable game of hide and seek, in not so many words, of course. You crouch low to the ground, ears perked while you ready yourself to pounce. Creeping closer and closer, you hold your breath as you near an unsuspecting playmate. You wiggle your butt. You’re not sure that it helps, but all the real cats do it, so child see, child do. It’s so close, you can make out the pale stripes running down its smooth brown body and light musky odour as it basks in the early sun. Mud clings to your overalls bit you don’t care. You leap! It darts for the clover. You make a messy grab, the swipe sending

Prompt: Forbidden Knowledge Words: 1210 — A crack like snapping a chicken wing in two. Blood and stars gush into the air. He’s grinning, waving farewell as her vision blurs. It’s only a moment of black before pain pulses across her face to the beat of her accelerating heartbeat, urging her eyes open again. Dazed as she was, change is immediately obvious. Still high above the bustling city, howling wind all but drowning out the traffic and music below while trying to claw them off the skyscraper, she is no longer hunting her adversary. She has been caught. He towers over her in every sense other than physical, crouching with satisfaction sparking his green eyes. Copper leaks through her teeth like a mouthful of old coins. Her stomach lurches as she turns her head, world momentarily spinning so she can spit a wad of blood out. “You pistol whipped me? F*ck.” Her nose crackles with each word. “You broke my nose.” He prods at her face, blood dusted fingers retreating before she could

Prompt: Strange lands Words: 1016 Characters: Storm and the Cheshire Cat — Everything smelled so sweet, like jam and cream. Sweet and swirling and sickening and the sooner Storm could get back to something with a semblance of reality, the better. Try as he might to fight it, frustration frosted his chest, devouring the building anxiety and growing stronger with each minute he spent lost in these weird woods. Fists clenched and unclenched at his sides as he rounded, you guessed it, another tree. The leaves brushed each other like chuckling rice maracas, dappling shadows somehow darker than the surrounding inkiness to dance along with the tempo. The darkness was more than a simple absence of light. It was a presence in itself. It was as though a beast of void had settled to rest, filling the space with the hum of its breathing where there should have been silence. It was disconcerting, if he let his mind linger too long, which he endeavoured not to do. Despite the darkness, he could

Prompt: Queer and Curious Words: 955 — It’s not easy being in your twenties. Too old to be given direction, too young to be seen as an ‘adult’, left to drift aimlessly if your teen made plans don’t pan out. Unemployment is a pain when there’s always someone more skilled than you applying to whatever position you’re begging for. On paper anyway. That’s how I ended up spending more and more time in the local park. You can’t just stay in the house all the time, the anxiety creeps in with the isolation, making it more difficult each day to leave. No money for an actual outing, the free park was the best option I had. I ambled about, a comfortable stroll in the overcast afternoon, scanning over rare newcomers from under my mirrored shades. People watching is much less awkward when they can’t see where you’re looking. I came upon an elderly lady kneeling in front of some overturned soil. She was diligently working away, sifting through the earth, replacing what she found with new seeds.

Prompt: Locked In Words:  797 Characters: Chris (13/14), and Echo (¾)  — Despite what stories may have you believe, there was rarely a raised voice in the orphanage. The Keepers were usually understanding and, after raising so many children, understood the futility of intimidation as a learning tool. So, when Chris rounded the corner to the kitchen only to be met with exasperated shouting and high-pitched growls, his curiosity was immediately piqued. Poking his head through the doorway, he saw Keeper Valerie, one of the oldest ladies and least known for patience, trying to reason with a very puffed up Echo. The little girl’s pipe cleaner tail thrashed in the air as she stomped and yowled. It was some kind of response to Keeper Valerie’s words but what she was actually trying to say was lost on them both. Unlike Chris, Keeper Valerie had clearly had enough of trying to decipher Echo’s complaints, and had stopped trying entirely. “Don’t stamp your feet at me Missy! If you don’t calm