Tag Archive | snippet

A couple tweeted snippets of stories, based on @anke’s suggestion





(Livejournal shows the tweets better; I suggest clicking through & reading them there)

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/952311.html. You can comment here or there.

Work in Progress: Mailbox

Did I post this one already? Part of 1000 words of WIP

I don’t think it’s all that weird (I’ve been known to be wrong about these things, but in this case, I stand by my assessment). I like mail, real mail, paper mail with stamps, hand-written on stationery if at all possible. I like opening my mailbox and seeing something in there. Catalogs will do in a pinch, but I prefer the human touch.

When I was younger, there were still pen-pals, people that would write letters to you, that you would write to in return, a tenuous connection with a strange culture. Now, with the internet, with the pervasiveness of instant communication, no-one bothers anymore. And the electrons are simple not as satisfying at paper. They’re so transient, so intangible.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/32186.html. You can comment here or there.

A work in Progress: Labys/nth

This is another one from a prompt; the story stands at over 5000 words and is maybe 2/3 done.

The phone call came as Jade was on her way to class. She thought about not answering it – she’d been late already twice this month, and Professor Tannenbaum was getting crankier than normal with her. Long-trained habit made her grab the phone as she danced to get her shoes on. It could, after all, be an emergency, even though it was almost always Taylor with a complaint or Riley with a demand.

“Talk to me,” she greeted whoever-it-was, as she executed a hop-skip maneuver to get her second shoe buckled. Two minutes until she had to be out the door…

“Jade, it’s your mother.” Mom sounded more stressed, more strained, than Jade could ever remember her sounding, at least since… “I’m sorry, it’s time.”

“Fee, Fi, Fo, Fum.” The booming voice was louder this time. Closer? Coming her way? There’s always a way through. Holding tight to the straps of her backpack, Jade thought of Professor Tannenbaum choking on a cigarette and walked boldly forward.

“Fee… oh, there you are, little thing.” If the ceiling had still been there, he would have had his head through it, and possibly through the ceiling of the floor above. His legs were like tree trunks, and he only barely fit in the hallway at all; he was standing in the T-intersection with one huge foot facing Jade and the other out of sight. She could have used his shoe as, if not a rowboat, at least a coracle. His thighs, at her eye level, were bare and very hairy, easily as wide around as her waist. And those knees, with wrinkles like a dessert landscape, were coming closer to her as he crouched down.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/31596.html. You can comment here or there.

A work in progress…

This is the beginning of a piece from way back on the B prompts. There’s a few I’ve got hanging out there unfinished, and I thought I’d start to share snippits

Lara woke slowly, fighting off a muzzy feeling, like a hangover without the pain. Her bed was warm and soft and comfortable, three things she didn’t remember her apartment being, the last time she’d been there. She felt like she was engulfed in feathers, which felt very nice, but seemed a little strange, nothing like her cheap polyfill comforter. And she was, under the blankets, completely nude.

She struggled into wakefulness. Where was she? She’d fallen asleep any number of places, some of them nude, but none of them had been this comfortable on waking. Or this fuzzy. She opened her eyes, hesitantly, bracing against the light.

And then blinked hard, again and again, and tugged the comforter up to her chin. She was in a library? It looked that way, at least. Books everywhere, dark wood shelves and spines of old leather like a literary rainbow, floors looking like marble, the whole thing reeking of age and expense and literary cachet. The place had to be huge. And here she was, naked in a pile of duvets. Naked and alone, in a very comfortable pile of duvets, with no clothes anywhere in sight. There wasn’t even anything she could use as clothes, except the blankets themselves; there were books, and a long gold chain trailing off across the floor, leading off in one direction between two bookcases, and in the other seeming to head into the duvets. Suddenly suspicious, Lara wiggled down to the foot of the makeshift bed, and grabbed the chain with both hands.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/30517.html. You can comment here or there.