I make promises. I break ’em. But I swear, I do intend to be more consistent in writing fiction. It’s good for me, and it’s fun.
To prove my intent, here’s a quick little something to . . . brighten up? . . . your Friday.
Once more, a prompt from The Prediction:
100 words maximum, excluding the title, of flash fiction or poetry using all of the three words above (‘confidential’, ‘midnight’, and ‘troll’) in the genres of horror, fantasy or science fiction.
“He’s just a troll. They’re all over the internet.”
“I told you that in confidence,” Raven said.
Heather rolled her eyes. “You need to lighten up. We’re taking care of it.”
It was 3 minutes ‘till midnight.
“Besides,” Heather continued. “The pictures looked real enough. Nice rack you got there.”
Raven glared. “You looked?”
“Of course. I may be straight, but I like boobs.”
“Well,” Raven said, “Let’s see how our troll likes my response.”
They chanted, and when they were done, a man-child Raven had briefly dated learned a powerful lesson. Don’t fuck with a witch—even online.