#SwiftFicFriday – Week 44 Prompt

#SwiftFicFriday – Week 44 Prompt

Welcome to the new and improved word sprint writing prompt series – #SwiftFicFriday!

I am back from hiatus (with a shiny new logo/tag line) and ready to roll!

Rules to keep in mind:

  •  You have FOUR hours (8:30PM-12:30AM on the east coast) to submit your entry.
  • Include social media links/handles/anything you want to promote (Twitter, FB, etc) & word count in the comment with your submission.
  • Submission must be between 150-300 words.
  • All stories are property of the authors.
  • Winner will be determined via reader votes over the weekend.

Ready, set, write!


Write a quiet moment – this could be characters sharing a moment of solace, contentment, a meal, anything. Get creative!

2 thoughts on “#SwiftFicFriday – Week 44 Prompt

  1. Here’s 300 (ineligible) #TeamRPG words:

    It’s rare, that I’m awake while everyone else sleeps, so I savor the silence. The peace, however momentary it might be, is nice. I let myself listen to the sounds of the night outside the cave, peppered with the soft snores of my companions.

    Like always, Nevari keeps her distance, sleeping as far from Valmong and me as she can while still taking advantage of the fire’s warmth. Even in her sleep, there’s something guarded about her. She sleeps in a ball, her entire body curled tighter than her fists. Occasionally, her tail twitches, and I wonder if it’s a sign that she’s having a nightmare, or something. Her face’s scowl never relaxes, either, giving her a perpetually wrinkled brow.

    Valmong, meanwhile, sleeps as relaxed as the dead, lying on his back. His hood covers most of his face, and his chest rises and drops in a steady rhythm. I wonder if he sleeps this soundly all the time, or if he’s just that confident that we’re safe here.

    “Do you always stare at people while they sleep?”

    His voice startles me, and I immediately shift my eyes back to the fire.

    “Sorry. I didn’t realize I was staring.”

    “Why aren’t you sleeping?” He removes the hood and sits up, eyes scrutinizing me.

    “Not tired. I think I’ve just spent too much time unconscious the last few days. It’s catching up.” I try to laugh it off, but even as I do, I wince at the still-sore injuries.

    Worry clouds his eyes for a moment, and he looks like he’s about to reach out, but thinks better of it, his gaze moving to Nevari.

    “You should try.” He yawns, and I feel guilty for keeping him up.

    “Don’t worry about me.” I smile. “Go back to sleep. I’ll rest eventually.”

    Liked by 2 people

  2. John laid in bed.


    He wanted to laugh, because that entire concept rested on a lie built on thousand thread count Egyptian cotton. Red Egyptian cotton, because red hid the stains better. Red distracted. Implied something other than exhaustion and pain held him beneath the silky sheet, pinned him under the soft blanket over that.

    There were days—too many days—when he wished for an event. An accident, maybe. He wasn’t particular. Either of them could die, so long as one of them died.

    He wouldn’t mind making that sacrifice.

    Some days he thought anything might be better than this, lying in a big, beautiful bed and wishing for anything—an alien invasion, a meteor strike, a permanent out-of-body experience—to give him a way out.

    Some days… he remembered a different time in his life. Remembered that, once upon a time, someone had protected him from the dark. Protected him from the pain.

    Had he really believed in the power of a stuffed animal once?


    He wished it was here now.

    He ached everywhere, ears twitching as the apartment settled into its day with a creak here and a sigh there, proof of life beyond the walls passing along in the hallway with a shout or laugh. The drum of footsteps. A voice singing. Sometimes in a hurry, sometimes with all the time in the world.

    And still, he laid in bed.

    He wondered if anything was broken this time. For certain, there were bruises. Maybe a few more spots that didn’t quite blend into the very expensive sheets. Sin was, after all, difficult to disguise.

    John knew the bruises would be especially hard to hide today. No effort had been made to place them discreetly. He would have to explain.

    He would have to lie.

    300 words

    Liked by 1 person

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