Katherine Villyard's Blog, page 11

Medical Advice

If you take a left turn off the subway platform, you’ll find a secret door. The door will open for a gift of silver. Once through, you’ll find that you’re outside in a magenta twilight, with lush, fragrant flowers and strange, beautiful animals. Leave them be.

Follow the path until you reach the sign, pointing you to summer and winter in opposite directions. Behind the sign, you’ll see a lake. Swim to the island at the center of the lake.

At the center of the island, there is a well. Drink from this well and call me in the morning.

College Roomies

My university roommate smells like a wet dog. I, on the other hand, rush to my classes under an umbrella and stay up all night studying, while she snores.

Our suitemate often shows up with dishes of food. We don’t know where she got them. I don’t eat, of course, but my roommate appreciates the food.

The last full moon, my roommate went on a bender and trashed the room. We fixed things together, and then I gave her a pep talk.

Someone called me a “goth freak” and my roommate threatened to fight them.

I think I like her.

The End

Their lives are so short.

Can you believe that at one point, this was illegal? Emily would have had to carry on with broken hips, trashed kidneys, a heart condition that makes surgical intervention impossible. Emily deserved more than this kind of suffering.

Which is why, even though it hurts, I’m choosing this for her.

When the nurse came in, I had them remove her dialysis tubes. I sat on her hospital bed, on the clean white sheets, and held her hand as they gave her the injection. I held her in my metal arms and wished I could cry.

Drabblemania

I’m trying to do daily drabbles, for fun.

The definition of drabble that I’m using here is that each one is a little microfiction of exactly 100 words. I enjoy the challenge of making it exactly 100 words, and it’s a fun exercise. So hey, if you want to see me practicing scales, go on over!

Hopefully I’ll… keep doing it? I don’t find daily wordcounts for the novel in progress helpful at all because I’m editing, so things are going to morph. It’s just the nature of editing.

If you have drabble prompts, go ahead and toss them in the comments! Or post your own drabbles in the comments! Either works.

Under the Sea

Electronics don’t work in water.

Melusine had a “dry room,” where she kept her Xbox, her computer, her television, her cellphone. The glow from her monitor and a collection of LED lights illuminated the cave walls in blue and green and pink. She would run a nice bath and watch Netflix or play games from the tub. She ordered sushi takeout from Uber Eats and ate it in front of her monitor, working for hours on her website—social media for merfolk.

The internet latency was terrible. Not enough to go to the sea witch and ask for legs, though.

Adoption Agency

We sat together in the dark, musty office, nervous. The woman across the desk had a wrinkle between her forehead as she frowned at her computer, then back at the papers. “So, what made you want to adopt a baby?” Her voice was bored, toneless. The keyboard clattered.

“We’ve always wanted children, but we… can’t.” My wife sobbed into her lace handkerchief.

 “You didn’t list your career.” Clatter, clatter.

“Data center. Night shift.” Hopefully that explained my pallor.

“Stay at home wife.” Actress, pre-talkies.

She gave us an appraising look. She wasn’t allowed to ask whether we were “Undead Americans.”

Corporate Witch

She closed the conference room doors and knelt on the meeting table. A packet of salt provided a circle around her. She called upon the forces of plenty, of power, of clever, strategic war, and lit a green candle in the center of the table.

Outside, visible through the floor to ceiling glass, there was traffic thirteen floors below. The big meeting was soon.

The ritual ended. She left the candle burning in the center of the table, climbed down, smoothed out her power suit—green jacket, green blazer, white blouse, black shoes. She swept the salt into a wastebasket.

Urban Wolf

The moon glowed, but it was the streetlights that illuminated the streets. He trotted through trash-strewn, dark, reeking alleys, avoiding honking automobiles, and slipped into the park. Everything glowed in a red haze. He caught and ate a squirrel, chased dogs, cats, and cars. At some point it rained, and he reveled in it, racing joyfully through puddles and sending water splashing high over his head. When the men came, he charged them, hackles up, and bit one of them.

He woke up naked in animal control. The sign on the door read, “Hold for Rabies.”

Just another Wednesday, then.

In 100 words

The moon glowed, but it was the streetlights that illuminated the streets. He trotted through trash-strewn, dark, reeking alleys, avoiding honking automobiles, and slipped into the park. Everything glowed in a red haze. He caught and ate a squirrel, chased dogs, cats, and cars. At some point it rained, and he reveled in it, racing joyfully through puddles and sending water splashing high over his head. When the men came, he charged them, hackles up, and bit one of them.

He woke up naked in animal control. The sign on the door read, “Hold for Rabies.”

Just another Wednesday, then.

Goodreads Giveaway!

Want a free copy of my book Love Stories? You can get one through this Goodreads Giveaway! Entry is open from March 1 to March 15. Winners announced on March 15.

And hey, while you’re there? Maybe follow me on Goodreads!