It’s been over a year since I’ve posted to this blog, though a bunch was posted to the site for last year’s Key Bank Rochester Fringe Festival. Health struggles continue – the big bummer was getting tests that WEREN’T all normal done at the end of March. In addition to the pandemic closing everything down, the doctor who saw me for the tests retired and I have yet to find someone to tell me what the findings mean. The search continues.
The pandemic changed the Fringe festival this year, understandably, and replaying the scavenger hunt game wouldn’t really work. In addition, as I thought that I should be trying to get the Storybooth out and around, an unattended device you have to hold to your face doesn’t seem the best solution. I won’t be there to clean it after each use. I need to plan for post-pandemic installations.
The good news is that, after 2.5 years in limbo graciously hosted and helped by my parents, I finally got the pieces in place and found my new place! Mine. This will be awesome and Storychick can finally have a settled spot.
In the meantime, I have been writing, if sporadically. In addition to other projects, I’ve done some prompt-inspired flash pieces which I really liked and wanted to share here. I plan to post one a week or so. When I get to the end of what I have, I’ll put plans in place to create more – that’s the plan, anyway. (I do think they evolve a bit over the batch, FWIW)
I’d love to hear your thoughts. Do you enjoy these? Do you want to know more of the stories or spend more time in these worlds? Are there things that I overdo or overuse? This is an experiment. You can leave comments on the post or through https://storychick.wordpress.com/contact-me/
Thanks to Joanne Brokaw for the initial prompts!
Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.
Whoever knocked, they seemed more interested in destroying the shoddy trailer’s hollow-core door than simply announcing their presence.
I was there, just inside.
I saw the frame bend, cave.
The whole place shook as the pounding shifted to an attempt to pry the door open.
I didn’t undersatnd why they were so eager to enter the dark, musty space that was smelling worse and worse since my arrival. There was no hurry, no prize, no one inside.
I glanced again at the lump on the floor that had once been me. Hair stuck out from underneath the contorted limbs and was stuck in various surfaces around the trailer.
Thwack, screach, shake. Thwack, screach, shake.
Whoever was so motivated to get in had no been around when it could have mattered. When I was brought here, deep in the forest. When was that?
I started to see a face outside the door. “Shhhh,” I whispered.
Storychick 