The Ink Slingers Guild meet roughly every two weeks and one of the fun things we do is an exercise where three or four members each pick one word. Those words are shared with the group and a timer is set for five – eight minutes. Laying pen to paper or tapping with fervor on their keyboards each person writes as much as they can in that time, but it must include those words. The best part is the sharing of these compositions, often hilarious and always inspiring!
We share them every week here: www.InkSlingersGuild.com
Today I decided that I wanted to share some personal favorites of mine. Below I will list three words and right below the blurb I threw together. I hope you enjoy them!
It was late and I was hesitant to knock on the door but my choices were that or getting hunted and eaten by a Serpa troll. Knocking on the door was a gamble, I admit. The tree whores tended to be mischievous and often killed their non-druid friends on accident. I was hoping that my slight resemblance to an ancient Spartan would keep their interest long enough to give me the scent inhibitor that would allow me to roam free without worrying about the incredible tracking skills of the aforementioned Serpa troll who was keen to get a little revenge. Something about a girl slave and some gold pieces. Unfortunately the beer they served at the pub that night was akin to the Irish gnomes brew and I don’t recall much about what happened that night. I sighed and lifted my hand to knock.
Jeri pulled the baby squid off his ankle and flung it into the ocean with a scowl.
“Stupid things love werewolves apparently,” he said out loud to himself.
“Lucky for me they don’t like the fae at all. I wonder why that is,” Shay said as she followed several feet behind Jeri.
“Oh look, you’ve got some slime on your shoe,” Shay said as she pointed even though she knew he couldn’t see her. Jeri growled long and low. Shay smiled and started skipping until she spotted what looked like a skull carved into the rock face ahead. She saw the hairs at the base of Jeri’s neck grow just slightly as he slowed at the entrance. He glanced back, his eyes red and growled once more.
“This had better be worth it.”
When I felt the knife graze my skin I got pissed. It’s one thing to tackle me in a dark alley. I probably shouldn’t have tried to take the shortcut home but put a hole in my friggin Guess jeans? These things were vintage 1986 and there was no replacing them. They were worn-in to perfection. The guy had his hand around my wrist now and was reaching for my purse. With my free hand, I grabbed his hat and yanked. His head dipped but he let the hat fall and now had my purse in his hand. Oh hell no. That was Prada. I kneed him where it counts and flicked my fingers at him. A silver dust puffed out and got in his eyes. He screamed and dropped to his knees, one hand covering his face, the other his package. I kicked him with my high heel mint condition Candies and continued down the alley. It pays to be a witch.
Surely this was a farce. Shelly looked around the dim pub and quickly looked to the ground when she saw that everyone there was looking at her. The gnome who had led her inside quickly dropped her hand and shuffled off a foot or two. Shelly thought that maybe the gnome was protecting her but now she saw that he was actually protecting himself. There was not another human insight. She drifted to the first empty table and sat down with a thud and the clank of her sword against the ground. The message had said to meet here but she wouldn’t be able to stay long. A set of green legs appeared before her. She swallowed and looked up. The small ogre was not smiling and was missing one ear.
“Drink?” she growled.
Searching her pocket for some form of payment, Shelly was saved when someone dropped a couple coins on the table.
“Two hazelbeers, lady Sween,” a dark and mellow voice said.
“Oh certainly, sir,” the ogre suddenly curtsied, “right away, sir.”
Shelly was scared shitless to look up at the man she wanted to hire.
Running faster than she ever remembered, Sinni flew down the pathway leading to the Caremasters quarters. The crinkle of the parchment folded in her cloak only fueled the speed in her flat moccasins. Fear touched her nerves and spread as she rounded the corner and saw the house. Heavy arrows, shot from the forest were flying into the windows. Skidding to a stop she threw herself into the cushion of the pine needles on the ground. Her chest heaved and her eyes watered. The cramp that she was holding off bit into her side at the same time as the smooth arrow pressed into her neck.
“Your name?” questioned the soft deep voice.
© 2014 Lisa Barry