Posted in Challenges and Contests, Flash Fiction Pieces, Just for Fun!, Life Writing, Marketing my Writing, Story a Day May Challenge, Writing in Freedom, Writing Samples

Quincette and the Brown Swarm: #StaD for May 24

Welcome, friends!

Come in, and let me tell you a Story A Day, all May long…

In June and July, I’ll be drafting two new Kifo Island novels. I know something about 5 of the 6 point of view characters, and I’ve got a sketchy idea of the plots – but I need to learn more about these people and their stories.

So, in May, I explore. Every day, I’ll follow the prompts in A Month of Writing Prompts 2016. I’ll play while moving through my planning efforts. Some of these stories may become part of the eventual novels, but my goal is to invite these characters to show me who they are and what they want – and how their lives fit together to make a novel.

Yup, I got behind again. Not with the writing, but with the posting. Life happened, in the form of plans with my daughter, an exceedingly hot weekend, a devastating migraine, and just all the other things I’ve been up to.

It’s now the final day of the challenge, though, and I’m determined to get all the back posts up by midnight – so off we go to May 24, and the daily prompt, Focus on Genre, We were asked to choose a genre, and write a story in keeping with its tenets. I chose dark fantasy, and have a mysterious little vignette in which Quincette encounters some strange beings who seem to have some inexorable purpose for her…

Week Four’s theme is Strengths – an opportunity to focus more intensely on what’s been working so far.

Quincette and The Brown Tide

She was still retching when she saw the feet.

Quincette tried to count, before she was finished, but her heaving only confused things. Were there more now than there had been? For sure, they were all wearing matching sandals, with the hems of long brown skirts above.

She got hold of herself, and straightened. There were at least four women, but she didn’t stay to be sure. If anyone told Mom or Dad they saw her outside the meeting, vomiting –

Quincette spun on her heel, ignoring the tight clenching of her stomach, and the way her head didn’t seem to want to come along with her. She started to walk away. She wanted to run, but that was more than she could manage, right now.

Footsteps behind her, and then the women surrounded her, and now she was sure that there were more than there had been.

She tried to escape them. “Excuse me? I’d like to get through, please.”

But the women didn’t move, or speak, only tightened around her in a knot, so that she’d have to push her way through them if she wanted to leave. They pushed her off her course, off the main path, and out to the perimeter path that circled the island.

Who were they? Did they speak English?

Quincette tried again, but there had to be a dozen women, now, and no one else nearby. They tightened so that she started to feel suffocated, and steered her down to the beach in a smothering sea of brown.


I am myself. I own my life, and live with three other people who own theirs. My intention is to do only those things that bring me joy, and to give myself wholly to those things I do. Writing has been my passion throughout my life, and this will become the home for my writing life...because it brings me great joy!

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