logo
Wrong email address or username
Wrong email address or username
Incorrect verification code
back to top
Search tags: wringo-ink
Load new posts () and activity
Like Reblog Comment
show activity (+)
text 2017-08-30 11:37
Wringo Ink. Short Story for the Genre “Starts with a Phrase”: Not. A. Story.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Once upon a time, sharks flew across the sky.

 

Or so one would think if one hadn’t been living in that era.

 

It was an age where people thought they had the right to punish people in God’s stead.

 

It was a time when it was okay to turn the sacred ground of universities into abattoirs.

 

It was just one of the moments in a string of moments when masks slipped off faces. With the carapace removed, you could see the hideousness underneath. The beings that had been masquerading around as animals were found to be much much worse. They might have been playacting to be civilized animals but the reality was abhorrently bad. When the masks were gone, we realized the torturers had been human.

 

Only the most unfortunate were alive at this instant in history. Could there be any doubt about their luckless nature if one looked at their accursed existence?

 

It was an epoch when nests were raided and the nestlings would never be safe. A false sense of optimism and security lay on the world like a thick heavy blanket. It seduced the birds to keep breeding, thinking their cygnets would be the only ones to be blessed. They never were; their fates had been anointed with humanity. There was no way those nestlings would remain unaffected.

 

It was a phase in human history when the Painbearers were taught their place. Untouched but still sullied, they plodded on. The chinks grew larger and each time, they glued the pieces back with hopelessness. Freedom was an illusion and the idea that they would ever be anything but the bearers of pain, a mirage.

 

It was an interval that had stopped being an interval a long time ago. It was like a pox-ridden Cronos but who refused to die.

 

In short, it was everyday o’clock.

 

Originally published at midureads.wordpress.com on August 30, 2017.

 
Like Reblog Comment
show activity (+)
text 2017-07-27 08:16
Wringo Ink. Short Story for the Genre Romance: Bogged Down

 

 

She didn’t like it when they just wouldn’t stay dead. Granted, all she had do to was concentrate on someone to make them keel over. Sometimes, however, the condition didn’t take and she had to work harder to focus. From the backyard, Blue had been watching her mother hug the picture frame tightly to her chest and cry, thinking, “Why does she cry over someone who left her?” The wind had picked up then, alerting Blue that something was up. Scrunching her tiny eight-year old nose, she had sniffed the air and there it had been. The tell-tale earthy scent that the dead brought with them.

Blue looked around and found the man shambling towards their house. His left foot scraped over the backyard soil, making a loud khrrrrrich every time. Swiveling her head to check if it was loud enough for her mother to hear it, Blue found her dozing in and out of a fitful sleep. “Mom can’t hear you!” she said to the corpse, cheerfully. As was usual, the cadaver didn’t display any signs that it had even heard Blue. It just kept on coming… khrrrrrich…khrrrrrich…Blue jumped off the mango tree branch that she had been ensconced in. “This won’t do,” she said, shaking her head at him.

 

She knew she looked a little bit cross-eyed right now. “But focus I must or this thing could mean trouble for Mom.” She glared at the body who had dared to defy her and told it to “Be dead!” Three be deads and it fell over, as if it had suddenly forgotten how to walk. Blue dusted off her hands, pleased with the results, and walked over to it. Bending to grasp a foot with two tiny hands, she saw the ankle was broken. “Oh, is that why you were making so much noise? Must have happened when you fell off the terrace. Well, can’t do anything about it now, can we?” She kept the conversation up as she began to drag him back to the bog.

 

By the time they arrived, Blue was a little out of breath. Huffing, she looked down at who she had been dragging and found him covered with all kinds of things…nettle, twigs, thorns and even a piece or fifteen of eggshells. “Well, you could have just stayed put. But noooooo, Mr. Unfinished Business had to come back.” Thinking she must not be late for dinner, Blue bent down, and pushed the erstwhile person into the swampy part right in front of her. Then, she raised her hands to her hair and smoothed it down. She sniffed the air for a few minutes but all she could smell were decaying, rotting, and boggy smells. Satisfied, she skipped all the way back.

Blue climbed and settled back onto her perch, watching her mother have dinner in front of the TV. She looked down at her hands and began the tally. “There was the landlord who didn’t want just the rent…the guy who had followed her home after work…and this man who had come to rob the place. That makes three…ughhhh, Mom will definitely have to move. I’m sorry, Mom! But what else could I have done?” She apologized to her mother who would never hear her. Not expecting any response, Blue almost fell out of the tree when someone answered, “How about trusting your mother to take care of herself?”

 

In the end, she did roll off the branch and plummeted towards the ground. Leaning forward to look at the newcomer, Blue’s eyes met the softest, kindest, and bluest eyes she had ever seen. She had been named after those eyes when she had inherited them. Understandably, she had fallen. Her father caught her in his arms easily and set her down gently. “Hi!” he said with a smile that she would never forget. She countered with, “You left us…you let go.” The smile became sad with edges sharp enough to draw blood. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. I thought being heavier, I was dragging you down with me. But you are just a little girl and the swamp too deep. I’m so sorry…”, he hugged her to himself.

Blue screamed, her little fists hitting her father’s chest as she tried to free herself from his hug. “Where have you been? I have been keeping Mom safe all this time. Where were you?” Looking as heartbroken as she felt, he said, “Looking for you. When I…woke up again…after uh dying, I didn’t remember anything. All I knew was that I was looking for something or someone. It took a while before it all started coming back to me. I came here as soon as I realized that it was you I had lost.” His arms freed Blue and she moved away from him. “You didn’t just lose me, you know. She lost you too.” Blue pointed in the direction of their home, meaning her mother.

 

“I know, Blue, but your mother is still alive and we…are not. That is why I have come here and that’s why I have been looking for you. You have to let her go now.” Blue scoffed at him. “Leave Mom? Do you know she cries herself to sleep every night? That she hugs our picture when she does that?” she was yelling again. Her father gave her one of his sad smiles. “Your mom is strong; she never needed us to take care of her. And, if we stick around, she will keep being sad. She won’t be able to move on, even if she can’t see us. We need to go, so she can learn how to be happy again.” Blue knew Dad was right…in her heart of hearts, she knew. She also knew what they had to do. “Do you promise you won’t let go this time?” she asked him, as they walked towards the swamp. He pinky-promised.

 

The End

 

 

Want to know more about Wringo Ink.? Click here!

 

 

Like Reblog Comment
show activity (+)
text 2017-04-16 14:17
The Status of Project Frankenstein & Other Updates

 

 

 

 

Reading Goal

 

I have completed half of the goal that I set for myself this year. Really happy that I'm getting some reading done even with life being as crazy as it is.

 

 

 

Project Frankenstein

 

I have finished 8 out of the books that I originally included in the post. Right now, I'm reading My Frankenstein, which is fun. Frankenstein & Philosophy remains abandoned even now. It isn't just dry; it is also repetitive, which makes it even worse!

 

 

  1. Parent Material: Frankenstein by Mary Shelley
  2. Others’ Take: The Mammoth Book of Frankenstein by Stephen Jones
  3. Historical Retakes: Anno Frankenstein by Jonathan Green
  4. Genre Spins: Steampunk: Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein by Zdenko Basic
  5. Young Adult Forays: Dr. Frankenstein’s Daughters by Suzanne Weyn
  6. Sci-Fi Pastiche: Prodigal Son by Dean Koontz
  7. Philosophical Entree: Frankenstein and Philosophy by Nicholas Michaud
  8. Series Picker-Uppers: The Second Birth of Frankenstein by Will Hill
  9. Prequels: This Dark Endeavor by Kenneth Oppel
  10. Precipitating Conditions: The Lady and Her Monsters by Roseanne Montillo
  11. Character Spotlight: My Frankenstein by Michael J. Lee
  12. Technological Difficulties: Frankenstein’s Cat by Emily Anthes
  13. Changed Perspectives: Frankenstein’s Monster by Susan Heyboer O’Keefe
  14. Graphic Detail: Monster Of Frankenstein by Dick Briefer, David Jacobs, Alicia Jo Rabins Edwards

 

Book Bingo

 

 

Besides this, I am also playing Book Bingo with my workmates. At the moment, I'm reading a book for the Myth-Based shelf

 

 

 

this is the progress that I've made so far:

 

 

 

 

 

Wringo Ink.


 

 

As you guys know, we started a Writing Bingo game at work, as well. So far, I've written a short story in the Romance genre, one with a Philosophical twist, and a play! Now, I'm writing a story that starts with a certain phrase. The phrase was chosen by our long-suffering readers and goes like, "Once upon a time, sharks flew across the sky."

 

 

 

 

Booklikesopoly

 

As if I don't have enough things going, I am so tempted to start this game. If I do, I think I'll let it extend beyond May 2017 because I want to finish as many books off my TBR as I can! I have already rolled the dice for the first time and got 7 viz.

 

 

and I'm thinking of reading this one because I haven't had a chance to read it yet:

 

 

 

Five Exercises for Writing Stronger Narrative Personality

 

I think I'll be starting with this one and take my time to finish writing about each personality:

 

Exercise 1: Free Write

 

"Take three personalities, and spend fifteen minutes free writing in their voice. You can write about absolutely anything – what you ate for breakfast, which elder god will swallow the world, or what the character’s life is like – as long as you do it with their personality".

 

I want to start with, A cultist on the edge of losing their soul to an elder god,
because it sounds very Malazan-esque and really cool!

 

 

The Missing Slate Contest

 

A short story content that I will be participating in. Here are the details:

 

 

 

 

The Salam Award for Imaginative Fiction

 

The daddy of all awards and I want to participate in this one. The deadline is mid of May and I kept thinking I had time but now April's almost gone and I'm panicking. I have the beginnings of an idea but I don't yet know how to pull it off. Moreover, the idea tells me that the story is going to be Military SciFi/Fantasy. I might have read books in this genre but writing a story seems impossible.

 

 

Stick along for the ride & I promise, I'll keep you posted!

 

Save

Save

Save

More posts
Your Dashboard view:
Need help?