#SwiftFicFriday W80 – Vote!

#SwiftFicFriday W80 – Vote!

Another prompt, another round of great stories to choose from. Check the stories out below and vote for your favorite!


300 words by Bill Engelson, (@billmelaterplea)

Walter

My name is Walter. This tag says so. It reminds me of my name. Some days, I forget. The tag helps I suppose. When I remember that it is there.
Sometimes I don’t remember it at all. Or even remember that I don’t remember. My name or my tag.
They tell me sometimes about that. They are always here. At least I think they are. When I remember that they are.
They have tags too. We all have tags. There are many people here. They all have tags.
Some dress in white. All white.
Others dress in blue pants and pink shirts, dresses.
There are women here.
Some in dresses. Some in pants.
A couple of the men wear dresses.
One is a bright red dress.
I think about red dresses often, I think.
When I remember that I am thinking about red dresses.
Bright red dresses.
I must mean something to me.
Sometimes, others come. They hold our hands, stroke our cheeks.
They cry sometimes, these others who come.
One brushes my hair.
When she does that, she often cries.
Once she laughed.
She never wears a red dress here, but I seem to remember that she once did.
It makes me so angry sometimes when I can’t remember her wearing the red dress.
The last time she was here, I said, “red dress”. I don’t know why I said it.
Maybe I remember I was thinking about it.
She asked one of the men dressed in white what that meant. She said, “is it a good sign?”
“No,” he answered her, “it’s not that impressive. It’s like, at least I think it’s like, looking at an image through a View-Master…did you ever have one?”
She nodded.
Then I fell asleep.
I think I dreamed of red dresses.


299 words by David A Ludwig (@DavidALudwig)

There had been times when Vedania fantasized about immolating idyllic picnic spots. Standing in the inferno that was once a park, she found it only knotted her stomach tighter. The human girl sat insensate at one of the picnic tables, her distraught cat meowing and pawing to rouse her. Vedania focused on the girl’s mother, who was calling gouts of flame to and from conflagrant grills around the park, like some sideshow magician.

“Impressive what mere humans can do given the opportunity. Isn’t it?” Malain teased, hell blazing in her eyes.

Smoked choked the sky to a macabre red haze. Sparks in the desiccated air singed Vedania’s lungs. The otherworldly archer would have been concerned. If she weren’t so angry.

“It’s not that impressive.”

Vedania stood stone tall and unflinching as Malain played her pyrotechnics provocatively around her opponent.

“Come now, surely you can appreciate the irony of your meddling in the mortal world bringing us to this point?”

“No.”

Vedania nocked her bow and fired. Malain vanished in an ascendant pillar of fire and their battle began in earnest. The human become sorceress’ powers were unprecedented in Vedania’s world, let alone the human one. Even sure her sworn sisters’ worlds might not have power like she now faced.

Pouring all her heart and magic she could muster into each arrow, Vedania was breaking boundaries too. A cupid wasn’t supposed to charge their arrows with hate, but she took grim satisfaction from the destructive power of each baneful shot. Leaping and rolling through pursuing flames she kept up a running battle against her still superior adversary. Vedania would win this fight by force of will.

Darkness lanced through Vedania, rotting her insides. She fell to her knees, consciousness fading. The girl stood behind her, hand outstretched and expression empty.


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