Monday, January 19, 2015

Fox rider

There's always one of them in every class, and Professor Bixby ShiningGear wasn't going to let some stupid prankster ruin his fox ride. Including the Queen's blessing, he had rather thought of everything, and thus prepared, he considered his pupil's infantile challenge with a smile.

There was of course no way he could take off his clothes without the Queen's magic. He knew his pupil would have seen to that. The question remaining was:  how would his fox respond?

"Rock and stock and stone!" Bixby grumbled. "That stream had better not be cold!" And, with this suitable proclamation duly uttered (so as not to seem too eager), he disrobed, spilling the last of the magic in his haste.

New Prompt: Write the First Three Paragraphs

Write the first three paragraphs you think of when you see the image below:

  • And... Go!

Monday, July 15, 2013

New Prompt: Only Human

New writing prompt: Only Human.
Due Saturday, July 20.

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

An Ode to Science

An Ode to Science (because there aren't enough limericks in the world, despite Philipp Goedicke's beautiful weekly efforts!) (and inspired by Jon Stewart's most recent interview with Neil DeGrasse Tyson.)

We can dodge the world's threats with defiance
By inventing a real good appliance.
I'm not Tesla's successor -
I'm something quite lesser -
But still, I just #@!!ing love science.


Saturday, April 7, 2012

Stationery card

Newsworthy Boy Birth Announcement
Create beautiful birth announcements at
View the entire collection of cards.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

It Hurt / The Plumbing Speaks

Dear Miss Gulch,
After careful consideration we must regretfully inform you that your application for admission to the Academy of Witchcraft  is denied.

At present we are only accepting students who are accomplished in original research. Your application lacks this. If you have new information you wish to append to your application in light of this, you must re-apply to the Entry Board for a complete--

Furiously, Alice Gulch ignited the letter in her hands without reading the rest. My third rejection in a month.

She dropped the flaming paper to the floor and clenched her fist. They had all said basically the same thing, painful because it was true: she'd done no original research, made no unique contributions to the field of black magic.

Her greatest accomplishment was also her worst nightmare - that cursed broom. Damned thing could not even fly through Mondays. She could just imagine what they would say if she tried to brag about it to the Entry Board. A time machine that doesn't work? How original!

An angry clatter sounded from the cabinet beneath the sink. Grandpa R. was making a ruckus again. Alice never had liked him when he was alive, but apparently he had liked her enough to haunt her house. Specifically, her plumbing.

"I can think of more dignified things to haunt, you crazy old coot," Alice shouted to her pipes.

"Such disrespect! I should curse you where you stand!" boomed a voice from beneath the sink--an unmistakable voice.

"Grandpa R.?" Alice cried in surprise.

"Foolish child! Do not sound so surprised," he boomed as he materialized from mist before her eyes. "Did you expect an expert necromancer to stay dead forever? Did you not know my day of returning was bound to come?"

Sulkily, Alice protested. "You've never spoken to me from beyond the grave before," she said. "You've just sort of... gummed up the drains."

The apparition seemed not to enjoy the reminder of his humble beginnings. He frowned. "Quiet," he commanded. "I am returned to help you."

Alice looked doubtful.

"Yes, it is true. You want to learn from me. I want to continue my experiments. Join me, Alice - let me teach you my arts! Together we can achieve great things!"

"You want to teach me?" Alice had never been interested in Necromancy. So much dirt and grime! Where was the sweet glow of copper, the shiny brass, the woody verbena?

"In life I always longed for a student," Grandpa R. said. "Necromancy is lonely work."

Lonely because no one can stand to do it, Alice thought.

Grandpa R. continued. "I knew one day you would see the value in it... and that I needed to return on that day." He peered around the room. "What has made you ready?"

Suddenly Alice knew. Necromancy was about as unexplored in Academia as a sewer pit. Talk about no competition... With a necromancy paper under her belt, she'd be an instant shoe-in for the Academy!

"Alright, Grandpa," she said with a smile. "Let's do this."

Saturday, September 25, 2010

Heathen artifact

((flash fiction, 200 words, set in a letter game Mary and I are playing. I'm hoping to get more writing practice.))

"You did WHAT!"

The roar of the dragon. Her name was Pepia, and she was the housekeeper. Ethellia sighed, turned, and shrugged.

"It's a wonder your head isn't cut off this second!" Pepia roared. "A heathen artifact! For a prince! As an engagement gift!!"

"It's supposed to bring good -- "

"Neveryoumind good fortune! A servant of Ozbyrt doesn't need it! He has divinity! Don't you think he'll want no reminder that he's failed to convert the Jujuwattas?! Don't you think--" here the dragon swiped with her claws-- "you've just aligned yourself with an enemy of the Kingdom--" another swipe -- "and possibly gotten the entire clan exiled?!"

Ethellia gasped. "I only--"

Pepia grunted, and a small issue of smoke fanned out from her nostril. "You only were thinking about the pretty crown you were going to wear on your stupid head," Pepia said.

Ethellia nodded meekly.

"One more thing," Pepia added, somewhat more softly. "You forgot to clean out the Gungletoad from your saddlebags."

Ethellia groaned, and looked suddenly a good deal more sorry than she had before. "Cut off my head any day," she grumbled. "It would be more pleasant than spoiled Gungletoad."

Pepia wordlessly handed her the alkali.