Micro Story - Tumblr Posts

You’re somewhat embarrassed. You’d promised everyone a night to remember for the rest of their lives. The bag had been so heavy.  You’d just put it down for a moment. Okay, five minutes. Well you got a donut. How were you supposed to know that the guy next to you on the park bench picked up the wrong bloody bag?  They’d weighed the same, were equally awkward, and both were pretty unassuming black duffel bags.  Of course, your’s was full of careful planned and selected party supplies. His was full of masks, dynamite, rope, smoke grenades, and yet more empty black duffles. You’re friends were never going to trust you to plan party night again.

Although...

No, that was a dumb idea.  Utterly absurd. Only a fool would think it.  You’re hands pulled out the pouches in the bags, digging eagerly. Whoever carried all their supplies in the same bag probably wouldn’t leave the plans somewhere else, right? Right. You starred at the pouch of papers.  That looks like a map. And blueprints for a building. Schedules for the guard rotation. Calculations for explosives, maybe? Math wasn’t your strong suit. None of this was your strong suit.

But Joel worked with building things out of concrete as a quality tester.  You’d seen something not too dissimilar to the explosive calculations on Chelsey’s desk when she’s been planning to a massive landscaping overhaul. Alicia taught children, that couldn’t be much harder to keep track of security. Tiana and Jos worked as administrators for the local technical school and you very distinctly recall them bemoaning having to break into their own work computers. You had briefly worked as oilfield safety and had some (outdated) training on fall arrest. This wasn’t a team you’d pick for breaking in anywhere but you had beat the quickest scores on the local breakout rooms a number of times. 

Sighing, you shook you head at yourself. It was a nice fantasy. You were too practical (and not stupid enough) to seriously do this. Slowly, playing curiously with each thing, you packed the duffle bag full again. Dreams such as these were best left for curious children. Heart heavy you left the duffle in the corner, turning your mind to how to convince your friends that the night wouldn’t be completely wasted and they could trust you to plan party night again.  Unnoticed the pouch of papers rested on your kitchen table, half spilling it’s shameful contents for all to see.

Only a fool would think to actually go through with the plans of some random thieves you accidentally stole a duffle bag from. You were friends with a lot of fools.

You open your delivery of party supplies to find masks, dynamite, duffel bags, rope, and smoke grenades. Meanwhile, across town, some bank robbers are about to have a very creative night.

From the list

Too loud Wonka

Or pet Laurie

Too Loud

Micro story prompt

"Mamma!!!" young Willy yelled from his bed. He sat up and looked around, unable to see anything in the dark until another flash of lightning illuminated the small room of their boat. "Mamma!!!"

His mother ran into the living quarters at the sound of his cries, hair drenched from tying things down outside so they would not fly away with the wind. She found her son curled up in the corner with his hands over his ears.

"The thunder, it's too loud," Willy whimpered. She sat next to him and pulled him in for a hug.

"There, there. It's ok. It will pass. We've weathered harsher storms than this and will weather harsher still." She rocked him and hummed until he fell asleep again.

<><><><><>

Willy sat up in his rickety bed at Scrubbit and Bleacher's, awakened by a sudden clap of thunder. Within seconds, he heard the pattering of small footsteps stop at his door. The knob turned, and the door opened slowly to reveal a scared Noodle shrouded in her blanket.

"Is it too loud?" Willy asked. The young girl nodded. He opened his arms to invite her in, which she eagerly accepted. He pulled her to his chest, and she tucked her head under his chin. He rocked her and hummed one of his mother's lullabies until she fell asleep, and so did he.

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

@jindongdongie

@groovy-lady

Trembling hands from micro prompts

Yule

Trembling

Micro Story Prompt

Kate sat next to her fiancé of five hours at the Mindy family's dinner table. Yule stared absently at the centerpiece, not even reacting to her presence. She laid her hand on his.

"Are you alright? Your hands are trembling," she asked quietly.

Her touch shook him from his thoughts. He looked at her and half-smiled. "Y-Yeah, I'm cool." He straightened his back and sat up in the chair. He interlaced his fingers with hers.

"I- I just thought we would have more time," he said. "I would have liked actually marrying you."

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

@jindongdongie

@groovy-lady

Reblogging because I love this one. Short but sweet.

From the list

Too loud Wonka

Or pet Laurie

Too Loud

Micro story prompt

"Mamma!!!" young Willy yelled from his bed. He sat up and looked around, unable to see anything in the dark until another flash of lightning illuminated the small room of their boat. "Mamma!!!"

His mother ran into the living quarters at the sound of his cries, hair drenched from tying things down outside so they would not fly away with the wind. She found her son curled up in the corner with his hands over his ears.

"The thunder, it's too loud," Willy whimpered. She sat next to him and pulled him in for a hug.

"There, there. It's ok. It will pass. We've weathered harsher storms than this and will weather harsher still." She rocked him and hummed until he fell asleep again.

<><><><><>

Willy sat up in his rickety bed at Scrubbit and Bleacher's, awakened by a sudden clap of thunder. Within seconds, he heard the pattering of small footsteps stop at his door. The knob turned, and the door opened slowly to reveal a scared Noodle shrouded in her blanket.

"Is it too loud?" Willy asked. The young girl nodded. He opened his arms to invite her in, which she eagerly accepted. He pulled her to his chest, and she tucked her head under his chin. He rocked her and hummed one of his mother's lullabies until she fell asleep, and so did he.

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

@jindongdongie

@groovyqueer

https://www.tumblr.com/queerbrujas/647102106485014528/send-me-a-number-and-ill-write-a-micro-story

Nap from this prompt list for Timothee

Micro Story Prompt

Nap

"Lunch is - boys?" You turned and looked around the kitchen but could not find Timothée or your 4-year-old son, Caleb. They were typically seated at the counter and anxiously waiting anytime they smelled food.

You made your way through the house, listening for signs of your boys. You followed the sound of the TV to the living room and wished you had your phone or camera with you.

Both were asleep, curly heads lolled to the side and mouths agape in nearly twin-like fashion. Like father, like son. Caleb was comfortably cuddled between Timothée's side and the arm rest of the recliner.

Your barely contained chuckle made Timothée stir. He blinked and looked up at you slightly confused.

"Enjoy your nap?" You flashed a big grin.

He looked down at Caleb, then back up at you. "I guess we played hard this morning."

"Well, I hope you played hard enough to work up an appetite because lunch is ready."

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

@jindongdongie

@groovy-lady

@pmak2002

21. Collapse

From this list

Timothee or his characters

https://www.tumblr.com/roxygen22/750844187588673536/send-me-a-number-and-ill-write-a-micro-story?source=share

Micro Story Prompt

Collapse

"You look like you are about ready to collapse."

You didn't need to look up from the espresso machine to know who was talking to you. But you wanted to. As expected, the voice matched the tall, lanky figure of your favorite regular customer.

"Hey, Timothée. Yeah, I've been staying up late to do some last-minute cramming for finals. The last one is today after my shift," you explained.

"Got any plans to celebrate the end of the semester?" he asked.

"To be honest, I haven't even thought that far out," you shrugged as you wiped down the counter.

Timothée rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Would you like to have dinner with me?"

Your breath caught. The mere sight of him gave you butterflies every time he walked into the coffee shop's door; however, you had no clue it was reciprocated. Your hesitation made him start to panic.

"Umm, I mean, it's totally cool if you already have pl-"

"I'd love to, Timothée." Relief visibly washed over his face. "How long have you been waiting to shoot that shot?" you teased.

"A few weeks." A faint blush tinted his freckled cheeks.

"So, what time should I be ready?"

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

@jindongdongie

@groovy-lady

@pmak2002

Since you asked me to do the help prompt for Timothee

Now it’s your turn 😊

https://www.tumblr.com/roxygen22/750844187588673536/send-me-a-number-and-ill-write-a-micro-story?source=share

Micro story prompt: Help

Roll With It

(Young, shy, not famous Timothée)

The clock closed in on midnight as Timothée walked down the sidewalk of Austin's Sixth Street. Although the sun had been down for hours, the air was thick and humid, thanks to the Texas heat. He was lost in his thoughts, just moving along with the flow of foot traffic, when he heard a trilling voice call out.

"Finally! There you are! Where have you been?" a young twenty-something chirped. Timothée looked up and around, squinting to focus through the flashing bar signs to see who she was talking to as she waved and trotted toward him. She threw her arms around his neck when she caught up to him and whispered, "I need your help. Just roll with it - please! I think that guy is following me," she said rapidly under her breath.

Timothée closed his arms around her from their open position of shock and surprise. His eyes darted around, trying to find the alleged culprit. He spotted a shady character in a hoodie - suspicious behavior on its own in sweltering 90-degree weather. The man's gait slowed before slinking into one of the many bars when Timothée made eye contact.

"He's gone," he replied, loosening his grip on the [cute] stranger.

She exhaled a sigh of relief and stepped back to look behind her. "Oh, thank God. And you!" she exclaimed, facing him again.

"How did you know I wasn't just another creep?" he admonished. Her lashes fluttered like the butterflies in his stomach as her smile met her eyes.

"I just ran to the first friendly face I saw."

Timothée looked down at his feet to hide the blush he felt reddening his cheeks. "Oh yeah? Uh...so do you. Have a friendly face, I mean." The stranger giggled in return. "Can I, uh, walk you to wherever you're going?" he asked in a brief moment of bravery.

"Hmm, I dunno. My mom always told me not to talk to strangers," she replied, deadpan.

Timothée choked on his own breath. "Oh, right, of cour-"

"I'm kidding!" She held out her right hand, inviting him to take it. "I'm Savannah. But my friends call me Anna."

"I'm Timothée. Or Timmy, for short, i-if you want something shorter," he stumbled, his focus shifting to the feeling of her hand in his.

"Well, Timmy. Now we're not strangers. Walk me to Belmont, and I'll buy you a drink." Anna kept a grip on his hand and started to walk backward in the direction of her venue of choice.

"Are you going to walk backwards the whole time?" he replied through a chuckle.

Anna nodded playfully. "So I can see if anyone is following me," she joked.

Timothée puffed up his chest slightly. "I'll make sure nobody follows you." He pulled Anna back toward himself, nearly twirling her in dance-like fashion to walk beside him. He offered his arm after she let go. "This way, I don't have to save you twice in one night. You were going to fall keeping that up."

"Oh ho ho, so my knight in shining armor does have a sense of humor after all." Anna snuck a quick kiss to his cheek before threading her hand through the crook of his elbow. Timothée was grateful his responding blush was hidden by the dark of the night as they made their way down the block.

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

@jindongdongie

@groovy-lady

@pmak2002

Comfort food from the prompt list for Wonka

https://www.tumblr.com/roxygen22/750844187588673536/send-me-a-number-and-ill-write-a-micro-story

Micro Story Prompt

On the House

He was wandering aimlessly around the small tropical town, milking the last hours of shore leave before heading back to the ship, when he caught a waft of something delicious. The top notes of something savory filled the air and made his stomach grumble.

He let his nose lead his legs until he came to a small hole-in-the-wall restaurant at the edge of town. He pulled the beaded curtain to the side and stepped in. The place was empty, but he could hear the clanking of cooking in the back. Suddenly, a friendly face popped into view from the kitchen window.

"Please, sit! I will be out in just a minute," he heard a young woman shout. He looked around and chose a table that would allow for a view of the place. It was small, but well tended to. Loved, even. He mindlessly ran his fingers along the grooves of the hand hewn wooden table as he waited.

Motion from the kitchen broke him from his thoughts. The girl wiped her hands on her apron as she stepped out. "What can I get for you, sir?" she asked while pointing to a menu board.

"I want whatever is producing that delicious aroma. I could smell it down the street!"

"Ah, I was making galina stoba for tomorrow's special. But I can spare some for you today. I'll be right back." She brought out a steaming bowl of rich brown broth, chicken, and vegetables. It almost looked like a stew. His eyes fell when she set it down in front of him.

"You don't like it? You haven't tried it!"

"No, no, ma'am. It's not that. It looks and smells scrumptious. M- my mom used to make something like this when I was sick or upset," he replied quietly.

"She is no longer of this world?"

He simply shook his head in response.

"You've been thinking a lot about her," she stated factually.

"All the time."

"She brought you here to my shop tonight. To show you that you will be alright. I can feel it." She paused. "Stoba is on the house."

He looked up at the ceiling puzzled. She chuckled.

"I mean this one is on me. Free." She cupped his shoulder, but before she could turn away, he grabbed her hand.

"Thank you. What's your name?"

"Raeni. Yours?"

"Willy. Willy Wonka."

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess @bluizh @jindongdongie @groovy-lady @pmak2002

"I always looked forward to the one day of the year when I could go out as I was, as my true self. Halloween was approaching."

D’mitri opened the exotic tome. Something about it had drawn him to it even before he saw its bizarre runic patterns etched onto the leather-bound cover. He felt an energy exude from within its pages and he couldn’t help himself; he had to explore more. His elation quickly transformed into confusion. Every page, cover to cover, was blank. Energy continued to waft from the book but there was nothing to be seen. Nothing to read. “What’s more worthless than a book that can’t be read?” he thought. But he was studious and diligent. More importantly, he was aware of the limitless possibilities of magic.

D’mitri combed through his library to find a clue to further his research but found nothing of magics that wished to be felt but remain unseen. Returning to the exotic tome, he began flipping through its blank pages until he turned to a page he had missed before as it was stuck to another. This page had physical images that he could see with his own eyes: it depicted parabolic runes fashioned in the shape of a gateway. As he studied the strange page, words came to him. Not in a voice or in symbols but of his own mind:

What opens shall never close What is seen shan’t be forgotten What is chosen has no choice

Where once his mind was a hurricane of thoughts and theories, he now had clarity; his mind’s eye was a blank canvas. A grand theatre where the curtains had been drawn for their opening production. Upon comprehending these words, his mind was flooded with vivid images of vast alien landscapes: Subterranean caverns glittered with blue and violent glows, deep ocean caverns where massive tendrilled whales swam, and monstrous tentacle faced people chittered to each other in a language that no tongue could ever speak. D’mitri wasn’t sure if the images were only in his mind or if he had magically transported himself. He could feel the cold splash of the water, the moist cavernous air, the vibrations of the tentacle people’s speech, but nothing of his own body in his study. Yet his body remained sound where he still had control. As he continued to dissect into the runic page he felt another word. A single string of letters. He speaks the grotesque word that sounded as if he were retching a giant slug. The instant the final sound left his lips he was overcome with the uneasy feeling of a predator watching him. He felt his projected mind get yanked briefly to stop its momentum then ripped away from the beautiful scenescapes. D’mitri found himself in a midnight salt flat. Flashes of lightning revealed glimpses of a mountain looming over him. Upon further inspection he realized the mountain was squirming. As he listened he heard it moan a thousand moans; wails of countless dying people. The scent of death struck his nostrils as did the warmth of vile breath from its many toothy maws. The mound of putrid flesh and death, with no discernable eyes to speak of, glowered at D’mitri. He could feel its hunger pressing down on him for only a moment. Its hunger quickly faded and with it, D’mitri felt a part of himself go with it. Something that he didn’t know was there but missed it the moment it left him. In that new void, that feeling of emptiness, became a new sensation. It felt hungry for something he’d never had before. It craved expression of emotions no decent human should indulge. It demanded control by giving into chaos.

Air leapt violent into D’mitri lungs. The gasp thrusted him back into the chair in his study; he had not taken a breath in some time. The rest of his senses returned in time to witness the exotic book on his desk burst into a necrotic green flame until nothing but ash remained. D’mitri felt weak and wispy as he stumbled out of his study and into the dreary gray rain outside where he would remain for a few hours. He had read more than enough for the day.