Snippets

 A ray of sunlight came through the clouds and shone directly on our hero.

To Morgan, shopping was near the top of her list as one of the most tedious tasks that she had to do on a regular basis. She was adding a container of OJ to her basket when Mrs. Grifsky accosted her, "Morgan is that you!?" Morgan sighed, "How are you Mrs. Grifsky, haven't seen you in a while?" Along with the obligatory greeting she gave the obligatory smile, Mrs. Grifsky seemed pleased. "Well now, it's been a day now hasn't it?" chuckling she looked at Morgan with a sly look, "can you tell me which of these here slots to scratch off Morgan? I've got a good feeling about them."

Morigan sighed, "wish I could Mrs. Grifsky but the sight doesn't work like that." Mrs. Grifsky looked disappointed but also a bit suspicious, she walked away huffily. 

Morgan was holding the statue, the Greek goddess of the sea, Amphitrite, stumbling over the words carved into the bottom "The sea gives them and the sea takes them back."  Suddenly the world swirled around them and the spray of the ocean was on her face fresh and raw like salty tears. A young boy ran past calling out for his father, Galin was shaken, he had seen that boy before. He was the spitting image of his own father when he was young, Galin had seen pictures of him in his jaunty cap and toothless grin. Galin starred at their surroundings in amazement, "Morgan... what just happened?" Morgan trembled and dropped the little statue 

In the Blackbird Pub

Vivid Dream

They were running the girls are chasing them shots are being fired over them she ducked down and jumped rinse the threats in a little alcove behind he suddenly took off dodging bullets I thought he was going to make it. Then she heard his deep voice an imitation of the call that he'd made to highlord earlier, allen transfer 1.2 million dollars to this Usher Swedish account I know the truth you've been playing both sides you have 24 hours to comply if you don't comply or if I'm gone all the dirt that I have on you will be sent to lieutenant collin Dunkirk at Scotland Yard. Suddenly his voice cut off but he was speaking to attention and focus solely on him and run up the flight of stairs to his personal sweet there right down the hallway jammed my finger at the elevator button I debated whether it was more expedient to add another floor or if I should go all the way down to the lobby thought it was as good as any so I jammed the star button, number one. This was his own personal elevator and he had hidden the door that way behind a plant when it opened up I saw the interior was plush but cramped. He didn't use this very often I hopped in back to the doors and grab the hand roll and started down I glanced behind me saw that the doors had not full close breast tightly to the handrail and held my breath hopefully they weren't some Shooters the bottom of this of the elevator

Developing happy lines on your face

not look like a perpetual teenager

Vivid Dream

Hang tight Morgan we have to wait, it's not safe for the others to try and make the climb. The tower was high, they were sitting in a large space on make-shift couches. Someone came up through the towers central ladder and tucked a satchel of supplies on top of the cement wall. Morgan felt the anticipation in the air as the others conversed. It seems they were surrounded by a large group of hostile people on the outside. Morgan got up and began to pace around the bunker like room, her friend Adair gave her no comfort. She was worried about the little boy they found beaten and bloodied. He had a little cat who stood watch over him like a protective mother. Suddenly the whole tower began to shake, they were being hit with a barrage of what seemed to be mortar shells. Adair urged her to step into the middle part of the room where he was standing on a sturdy platform. Suddenly the whole of the other floor began to shudder, she feared for the little boy and his cat and began to step towards them, Adair grabbed her arm, the whole section where they had been laying crumbled away. The cat hung onto the ledge in desperation and gained purchase with his back legs, pulling himself to safety, the little boy was lost. Morgan turned to Adair and began to pound on him and sob, "how could you let that happen!? He was so young!" 

Phoenix is a little cat who likes to pretend that she is a spy. She dives into the room of her owner whenever it is opened in order to make it to the safety of under the bed.

She is traveling home from school and she walks past a unique garden full of intriguing things and she thinks that she sees her grandmother standing on the steps. She misses her grandmother, she disappeared one day.

There is a girl that is flying in the shower, her hair streams out behind her, she is a water sprite.

There is a little bird that is trapped in the concrete

Two crows are conversing as they search out a lost missive

A train blows a long note as he's passing a bridge in the night. The sound of the clickity clack on the rails is growing stronger and stronger and then the train passes.

The forest at night, the wind blowing through the trees the sound of the water over stones in the stream.

The way that people interact with each other, distracted, intent on disconnection. How we don't notice things and what we do.

She feels torn between what she wants to do and what she can do with her time. There is never enough time. Really.

Well what do you expect when you jump into the middle of a story? A rundown of past events leading up to this point? Well why not, I’ve got nothing better to do since I got locked into this cell. It all started last month when Charlie came into my room eating a bowl of cereal, “Mom says you’ve got to get up” he looks bored, like he couldn’t care less if I got up or not. I rolled over and put my eye pillow back on. “Tell her that I’ll get up later, it’s Saturday, I deserve to sleep in.” He had walked out before I had finished mumbling this pronouncement and Mom followed closely behind. “Morgan you’ve gotta get up, you’re going to be late!”

Starts out with Morgan telling about her story from a jail cell, the story is that her late-night studies lead to her family’s disappearance. She discovers a plant that blooms at midnight on a full moon, this causes those who smell the flower to disappear into otherworld, the antidote is the root of the flower but only those who have seen the flower bloom and have taken the antidote can travel between the realms.

Morgan’s mom wants her to do “normal” things like cheerleading but Morgan is reluctant because she wants to become a witch like her grandmother.

Idly Melanie wondered how long it had been since her last meal as her stomach rumbled and she pulled out the cornflakes and milk. It had been too long since she had had a client and she was growing more restless and irritable with each passing day. A loud jangling noise interrupted her train of thought, "stupid ringtone" she thought as she picked up. "Hello, how can I help you?" she said brightly, this was a habit, her income depended on her ability to make good with her clients so she trained herself to be pleasant no matter what mood she was in. "Cut the crap Mellie I know you're slinking around your apartment, feel up for a walk?" Oh it's you Greg, his voice

It was startling, she had just walked into this room only an hour before and now everything had changed. The decor, no longer the upbeat modern with floating lights and minimalist furniture, was a tacky yellow and orange. There was a round Formica table in the middle of the room and the chairs reminded her of the elementary school cafeteria chairs that she grew up with. There was smoke in the air, odd, especially since smoking had not been allowed in the facility for as long as she could remember.

She heard a door open and turned, this guy with a full on 70's style suit walked in and got his lunch out of the green refrigerator. He gave her a sideways glance, as if she were the one with the weird clothing, then proceeded to heat up his lunch in the bulky microwave sitting on the counter. Another guy walked in, again in a 70's style suit, and the two start discussing politics ignoring Alex. She heard the men mention President Nixon and Watergate. Alex was flummoxed! What was going on?

Then, as if the dial of a radio was being turned the room, the men and the conversation wavered and blurred and the next thing Alex knew she was back in her own familiar break room. What had happened!? Was that all a dream?

Setting a Scene-Practice

It was an empty room, devoid of all signs of life. The scent of paper lingered, clung to the walls. She stared, wondering what they had done with the furniture.

"Hi," he turned, recognition on his face which turned into a questioning gaze. "Hi, how are you?" She shook her head, "I don't know why I'm here," she said softly. "What was that?" He asked a soft lilting question in his voice. "I'm sorry, I, I know you didn't expect to see me again, but," she let the statement linger, "I should go, I'm sorry, really." She combed the bangs out of her eyes and turned to leave.

He stood, abruptly, "I missed you, it's alright that you came, sit down." She glanced at the proffered chair and blushed, he had offered her his own chair. "I couldn't, really, then where would you sit?"

"I would sit right here," he said as he leaned against the wall in a comical squat. She couldn't help but grin a little. "How are you? I've missed you," there was real warmth in her voice as she said this, yet also a bit of hesitancy at being so open with him.

"Good, good, no complaints," the joyous buoyancy in his voice hurt, there was no tinge of regret to his voice, no admission of a life long hurt. It was as if he wanted her to know that he, for one, did not think of her. That for him it was truly over.

She stood, embarrassed by her own perceptiveness. Some how, she always knew what he meant, she always knew. She missed him, but, he was dead to her. Ridiculous that she had come. "That's good," she stated tersely, "really, I'm very happy for you, I hope your life is good." She started to leave, but he grabbed her arm, pulled her close, "why did you come? why? don't you know that I still think about what happened between us? Do you want to go back to that?" She drew in a sharp breath, "no, I know, I'm sorry. Forget I came." He released her and she left, tears stung her eyes, he was right.

Now he was gone, the office, desk, chair. Gone. She took a deep breath, and turned away. Running her hand along the wall as she walked.

Snippet

she was walking barefoot in the woods, picking her way over fallen logs, through brush and rocks. It was a foolish fit of impetuousness that had convinced her to leave her shoes behind. She had wanted to absorb the essence of the mouldering forest floor, the essense of pine and sage. She wanted to feel the dark verdant earth beneath her feet. It was worth it, she thought, when coming to the stream she was able to plunge her feet into the chill depths.

How have I misjudged you, on the basis of a look? Your inscrutinable face gave no sign to the depths of your character, your compassion.