Another prompt, another round of great responses! Check them out below and vote for your favorite:
Story 1 by Siobhan Muir
Matsuko frowned and shook her head. “None of this makes sense.”
I leaned against my cell door. “What would make sense to you?”
“Starbucks and my cellphone full of music. Yoga pants and a Toyota Prius. Maybe a good Marvel movie. Do you think Steve Rogers got together with Peggy Carter in the new timeline?”
I frowned. None of the things she said made sense to me, but she sounded wistful, like these were common things in her life. “Uh…”
“Oh, I know, no spoilers, it would ruin it. But do you think that’s less fantastical than being able to shoot fire from my hands? I mean, no matter what, I do have a good memory and I remember shooting fire from my hands, and that makes less sense than movie magic.”
She suddenly pressed herself against the bars between our cells. “Tell me the truth. Where am I really? Did Universal Studios put together a Lord of the Rings action set and we’re in it?”
I laughed. “My lady, the universe often puts events in our path so we may learn, but the only this Lord of the Rings doesn’t exist. Now there is a Lord of Stones, but he’s a rather dreary old mage who keeps shiny rocks and says they’re full of power. Fool.”
Matsuko frowned and despite her fearsome visage, I remained charmed. “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”
“Not a bloomin’ clue.”
She sighed and turned her back against the bars, sliding down into the moldy straw. “I have to get out of here and get home. I don’t belong her.”
I chortled. “Oh, my dear, none of use belong here. But here we shall remain unless you know of a way out.”
Story 2 by Stacy Overby
The Kappa River
The screen door slammed, adding punctuation to his words, chasing her into the dark night. “You’re not happy no matter what I do!”
It’s what he always said when they got into a fight over stuff at home. “How many bloody times do I need to spell it out for him? It’s not like picking up his dirty clothes or putting the dishes in the empty dishwasher is that hard.”
The river murmured to her in the distance, a soft, rippling hum just at the edge of hearing. She made her way to the bank a couple hundred yards from the house. With a dark look back at the yellowish light from the back porch glowing like an eye out of the shadows, she made her way along the worn dirt trail that followed the bank downstream. Fantasies of escaping her miserable life danced through her imagination until tears slipped down her face in silence.
“Who goes there?” The tinny voice startled her out of her reverie.
“Who’s there?” she called out, her voice higher than normal.
“I asked first, missy.”
“My name is Emily.”
A shadow detached itself from the riverbank. “Emily, eh? I am glad you came.”
“Who are you?” Emily’s voice tightened and rose even further.
“You’ll make a fine meal.”
The shadow lunged at her. It was humanoid, but with a turtle-shell on its back and sickly green skin. Webbed hands grabbed her as water sloshed from its oddly shaped head. Emily screamed, but sharp teeth cut it short as hot, crimson blood spilled into the river in an offering to the denizens there that night.
Let your voice be heard!