This week’s #blogbattle word prompt is lurk. This is run by Rachael Ritchey over on her blog Writing Rachael Ritchey. I encourage you to check out her blog, and this challenge.
1.1000 words max
2.fictional tale (or true if you really want)
3.PG (no more than PG-13) Content – let’s keep this family friendly!
4.Your story must contain the word(s) from the theme and/or be centered around the theme in a way that shows it is clearly related
5.Go for the entertainment value!
6.State the Genre of your story at the top of your post.
7.Post your story on Tuesday, by 11:59 PM PST
8.Use the hashtag #BlogBattle when tweeting your story, put a link back to your #BlogBattle Short Story in the comments section of this page, and/or include a link to this page in your own blog post (it creates a “ping-back” which will alert me and our friends to your #BlogBattle post)
My genre: Fantasy
Here’s my entry for this week:
Winter giggled. Not at anything particularly funny. But just because life was funny.
Birch had hold of her hand, and was taking a cup from her other one. “Hey,” she protested. “I want that cup. I think.” Did she?
“I think you’ve had enough cheva juice for one night,” Birch said. He started to lead her away from all the pretty lights.
She twisted away from him, stretching her hand out towards the lights where fairies danced, their shadows wavering on the uneven walls of the cave that was really tree roots.
At the entrance, she realised Birch was taking her out of the Dance. “Hey,” she complained, “I don’t want to go!”
He made her face him. “Winter, you’re going to have quite a sore head in the morning. Do you really want to make it worse with more of these shenanigans?”
A sensible annoying little voice whispered in her head that she didn’t want to make it worse. But she didn’t like that voice and didn’t want to listen to it. So she held her head up and asserted “I don’t care. I want to do more Dancing.” She broke free of his grip and whirled around on the spot, before making a move back towards the dancing, laughing fairies, in the dancing, pretty lights.
Something tugged at her wrist and stopped her. She frowned at Birch’s hand. “Hey!”
He sighed, and pulled her into the hallway. “Come on, don’t be awkward.” Then he muttered, “Your mother would kill me, and your father doubly kill me, if they saw you like this.”
Winter heard the words but attached no meaning to them. She just wanted to go back and dance.
But the lights and noise were gone now. She was in a dull, boring world and she decided that Birch was to blame for that.
She started to walk really slowly, making it hard for him to keep moving her along. He grumbled under his breath, but didn’t stop.
So she grabbed out at small bits of plant that poked out from the soil walls, creating even more of a drag.
He finally stopped, turned, and said, “Winter, will you please stop that? I’m just trying to take you back to your room so that you can sleep off this intoxication.”
With a victorious feeling, and smile, she said, “I don’t want to go back to my room and sleep. I want to go back to the…” An awful thing happened. She tried to suppress it, but her next word came out as part word, part yawn, “Dance.”
Birch raised his eyebrows in a really irritating way. “See? You’re tired, you need sleep.”
“No I don’t,” she said, and yawned again. That was really annoying.
He started to pull her again, and she found she didn’t have the energy to resist anymore. If only she had more cheva juice, that would give her more energy.
Her room loomed up on them, lit by just a single magic light. Birch took her inside, and sat her down on the bed. “Now, please sleep?”
She looked at the pillows and hated them. “I want to go back and,” another yawned word, “dance.”
Against herself, she laid down. Her body was aching a bit. Maybe if she closed her eyes for a while, Birch would leave, and then she could go back and dance. She giggled again. He wouldn’t be able to stop her.
Her eyes closed, and she heard Birch’s footsteps recede from the room.
Right, she thought, I’ll get up in a few minutes and….