36th #SatSunTails

Welcome to the #SatSunTails microfiction competition.

Be warned – the prompts aren’t easy, but that’s so you can write to the best of your ability.

If you haven’t had a go before at this writing challenge, then please don’t hesitate to try this weekend.

Rules!

  • Post stories in the comments
  • Stories must be 150 words (margin of 5 words either side) AND based on the picture and written prompts.
  • If you title your entry this is not counted in your word count.
  • Only one entry allowed (so make it count)
  • End each entry with word count and name/twitter handle (if you forget these REPLY TO YOUR OWN COMMENT with them before judging closes)
  • Monday 11am GMT is the expected closing time for entries BUT the competition will be open until I put a ‘competition closed’ comment so you may be able to slip something in (because I’m extra kind like that). Got that?

If you do not comply with these rules your story will be disqualified from judging. Good spelling and grammar will also help to make a better impression on judges – the odd typo, however, will be overlooked so please don’t worry about that.

For tips, read through the critiques from last week’s entries.

Winners!

There will be ONE OVERALL WINNER and THREE RUNNERS UP. After that there will be THREE CRITIQUES of three stories that didn’t make it.

It would also be nice to those participating if you could promote your fellow competitors and those who win.

Today’s Prompt!

The following may be used as a sentence in your story OR provide a basis for it:-

“crushed stardust”

And here is your picture prompt:

& good luck!

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8 thoughts on “36th #SatSunTails”

  1. Dinner By Moonlight

    Thick tendrils of evening fog swirled and eddied about her, embracing her form not as they would a mortal being but in a manner more akin to the recognition of a kindred elemental presence, one composed of equal parts of crushed stardust and distilled moonlight.

    The hunger welled up in her, emanating outwards in almost palpable waves of desire and desperation. She must feed, and soon, else the exquisite agony of denial threatened to crush her in an inescapable and thoroughly intolerable embrace from which she might not ever emerge again.

    He was late, as always, and though she both loved and revered him, she could not much longer deny the growing need within her. Briefly, she considered and discarded the possibility that he had gone to hunt without her. As she felt the comforting solace of his approach, she realized it was nothing so dire, merely the reckless indifference of her eternally irresponsible sibling.

    155 words @klingorengi

  2. I see her most days. Standing, looking away from me, like she’s waiting for someone to arrive.

    I don’t know her name; she has never spoken or otherwise acknowledged my presence. Last time though, she turned and I saw her face, so I know who she was. A few years ago there was a terrible car accident in the village- a young mother had been driving her children home from school, when their car had been blindsided by a speeding delivery truck. The children survived with grazes, but she had been pronounced dead at the scene; her once-beautiful face now scarred and still, covered in windscreen glass, sparkling like crushed stardust.

    It took me a long time to work out why I could see her now, when I hadn’t before. I wonder if I will spend my days watching and waiting for my children to die and join me, too.

    150 words @samthewlis

  3. Sitting quietly amongst the trees, the crickets calling out their song, her quest begins. Closing her eyes she feels her spirit guide entering the realm of the living. Softly caressing her body, guiding her along the path, it calls to her. Her guide’s essence appears as a trail of fine mist of water droplets and crushed stardust. She is possessed by a feeling of peacefulness, no fear, only complete trust.
    The path she has taken brings her to a large tree, taller than any she has ever seen. It’s branches reaching skyward toward the Heavens. She begins her assent, climbing without caution. Effortlessly, she reaches the top. She glances around and see that she is now among the twinkling stars. Reaching out to touch one she is overcome with all the hidden knowledge she yearned for. She realized now, this is death, the start of a new destination.

    148 words @me2annoyed

  4. Charmed Life

    Serena doesn't think, she acts, and the world orders itself before her feet.

    So, when she escaped the party on that late November night, nothing but a sleeveless, black gown protecting her from the chill, we weren't concerned. It was typical Serena. She was adventurous, but not crazy. She wouldn't look for it, would she?

    An hour and three rum-and-cokes later, I did worry. Didn't take long to find her. Standing under the light, pale skin radiant against the dark sky. She was baiting it, teasing it out of the shadows.

    I wanted to pull her away, but something held me back. A question, a suspicion.

    The creature came out of the woods, not in a rage, but taking inquisitive steps. Serena gave the ancient thing a coquettish smile. Fresh blood caked its lips, but the creature didn't kill her. As if crushed stardust fell over her whole life, it instead fell in love.

    @Leo_Godin 154 words

  5. Time For Love

    ”You’ve tasted mortality,” Nightwings squawked. “I smell it.”

    Stepping beneath the guiding post, the rough cloak slid from my shoulders tracing the path his sturdy hands took not an hour ago.

    “It’s none of your business.”

    Sliding the ring from my finger, I shimmered and changed. Coarse cotton became velvet dusted with crushed starlight. Blonde ringlets turned ebony and sleek. The glamour tingled as it fell. Such relief to be free of mundane flesh, binding tight like worry under the skin.

    Worry? Immortals did not worry. I frowned.

    “He will follow.” Nightwings fluttered to my shoulder.

    “He can't.” I nodded to the unlit lamp. My heart twisted, already missing his sweetly lingering kisses.

    “Then why?” Black eyes challenged.

    “I loved him.”

    Scraping caws scoffed at me. “Then time has you now.”

    And it did. But time’s wearisome discomfort was but a ghost compared to the sharp fiery memory of eager kisses shared.

    152 words
    @Rowanwolf66

  6. Fading Dreams
    By Lisa McCourt Hollar

    She waited by the lamp post, surrounded by a mist that swirled possessively around her.

    Hesitating, Ian watched, drinking in her beauty. He was afraid to go to her, sure that if he touched her, she would disappear, dissolving into the fog and leaving him forever.

    His feet moved of their own accord, following the familiar path… how many times had he done this, knowing she could never be his?

    “Alana,” he whispered, reaching for her, his wife. It had been so long since he’d held her. Maybe this time…

    She turned, black hair sweeping off her shoulders, bone jutting from her jaw; her face ruined by the accident that took her from him. Falling back, Ian screamed out.

    Her eyes full of sorrow she mouthed, “Let me go,” before fading with the dream.

    He woke, tears streaming down his face. On the bed a layer of crushed star dust shimmered on the sheets.

    Word Count: 154
    @jezri1

  7. Pixies Play

    “Crushed stardust,” Witchly says.

    Fffttt. Like nettles under wing.
    Pixie dust, not stardust.

    Witchly’s presence foretells of day’s approach. I gather my kin to stir the fog. Beneath the arched streetlamp, Sprites bide their time to strike. Harmless tricks to perform. She be fair game alone in the hours of darkness. Old Man, the tree, smirks behind her back. I hear his rustled snickers. She pretends not to listen. Pale skin shimmers in the moonlight as she beckons to the ravens. Ignores us.

    A werewolf howls. Witchly’s back stiffens as night begins to shift. I watch from Old Man’s branches the first hint of dawn breaking. Playtime ends and the world comes to life with moon’s glow dimming. Soon sunbeams and the smell of heather’s blossom will show the way for humans. I flitter.

    The brownies hiss a warning and fearful, we scatter like the disobedient children of fairy tales.

    Fffttt. Pixie tales.

    @fetterslopez
    word count 154

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