Dragon Journal (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dragonjournal) wrote2026-03-09 12:15 pm
dragonjournal) wrote2026-03-09 12:15 pm
Yahtzee Fills for GYWO
All Stories are 100 words. I did it!
“What’re you doing, sweetheart?” She balanced a basket of laundry on her hip, watching her four year old daughter sorting little heart candies.
“Decidin’ who gets what.” She said seriously. Her little fingers dividing the hearts into certain piles. “This one is for you, this one for brother, and this one for daddy.” She sounded very serious about her endeavor.
“Okay, well, we’ll have to cover them up soon, since there will be lunch.”
“Okay mommy.” She didn’t turn from her sorting.
Deciding that she was doing no harm, laundry called. She hummed to herself, and began her own sorting.
Silence. Echoing, piercing silence. Nothing penetrated it, save the beam of his light as he floated. He rolled it over the coral reef before him, taking in the colors that rioted before him. Where the echoing silence couldn’t be penetrated, the light brought about colors and textures that he couldn’t quantify.
His legs moved, propelling him forward a few feet. He reached out to tickle the stems of an anemone, watching it sway in the water.
Feeling a shadow, he looked up. The great white shark patrolled the reef above him. Silent, deadly. He waited, his exhalations reaching the surface.
Blood dripped from her jowls as she walked through the sand under her paws. Something rose out of the desert in front of her. Her paws spread against the warm sand as she studied it, her tail flicking from side to side. A sniff of the air said humans had once been here. But their scent was stale, old, faded.
She approached, seeing the shadows - places to rest out of the heat of the coming high sun. She cautiously approached the structure. Nothing was here, save the ancient smell of humans. She stepped in. A scorpion scuttled out. It’s safe.
Beauty surrounded her. She slowly slipped forward out of the brush, limping ever so slightly. Getting to the water, she shivered at the frigid temperature, compared to the warmth of the forest. Slowly, she stepped in. Swirls of dried blood floated away from her, taking the shame and horror with them.
She killed him. Her naked body quaked in the cold water. Dunking down, she scooped up sand and scrubbed herself raw and clean. He was dead. That was what mattered. Her head cocked to one side. Out came another. She stared at him, tears falling down her face. Danger.
Light ricocheted in the windows, almost blinding in the late afternoon. The stage was empty. It wouldn’t remain so. She took a seat, where the light could not blind her, and readied a notebook for the words, phrases, ideas that would come to her eventually.
Around her, the auditorium filled. Eager students, faculty, outsiders. All came to listen to him speak. She stared ahead. The Dean stepped onto the stage, tapped the mic and everything went silent. She wondered if he would see her, if he’d know. If he did, what would she do? “Welcome to the Fatherhood Initiative Presentation.”
“What’re you doing, sweetheart?” She balanced a basket of laundry on her hip, watching her four year old daughter sorting little heart candies.
“Decidin’ who gets what.” She said seriously. Her little fingers dividing the hearts into certain piles. “This one is for you, this one for brother, and this one for daddy.” She sounded very serious about her endeavor.
“Okay, well, we’ll have to cover them up soon, since there will be lunch.”
“Okay mommy.” She didn’t turn from her sorting.
Deciding that she was doing no harm, laundry called. She hummed to herself, and began her own sorting.
Silence. Echoing, piercing silence. Nothing penetrated it, save the beam of his light as he floated. He rolled it over the coral reef before him, taking in the colors that rioted before him. Where the echoing silence couldn’t be penetrated, the light brought about colors and textures that he couldn’t quantify.
His legs moved, propelling him forward a few feet. He reached out to tickle the stems of an anemone, watching it sway in the water.
Feeling a shadow, he looked up. The great white shark patrolled the reef above him. Silent, deadly. He waited, his exhalations reaching the surface.
Blood dripped from her jowls as she walked through the sand under her paws. Something rose out of the desert in front of her. Her paws spread against the warm sand as she studied it, her tail flicking from side to side. A sniff of the air said humans had once been here. But their scent was stale, old, faded.
She approached, seeing the shadows - places to rest out of the heat of the coming high sun. She cautiously approached the structure. Nothing was here, save the ancient smell of humans. She stepped in. A scorpion scuttled out. It’s safe.
Beauty surrounded her. She slowly slipped forward out of the brush, limping ever so slightly. Getting to the water, she shivered at the frigid temperature, compared to the warmth of the forest. Slowly, she stepped in. Swirls of dried blood floated away from her, taking the shame and horror with them.
She killed him. Her naked body quaked in the cold water. Dunking down, she scooped up sand and scrubbed herself raw and clean. He was dead. That was what mattered. Her head cocked to one side. Out came another. She stared at him, tears falling down her face. Danger.
Light ricocheted in the windows, almost blinding in the late afternoon. The stage was empty. It wouldn’t remain so. She took a seat, where the light could not blind her, and readied a notebook for the words, phrases, ideas that would come to her eventually.
Around her, the auditorium filled. Eager students, faculty, outsiders. All came to listen to him speak. She stared ahead. The Dean stepped onto the stage, tapped the mic and everything went silent. She wondered if he would see her, if he’d know. If he did, what would she do? “Welcome to the Fatherhood Initiative Presentation.”