Glad you could join us for the next extreme episode of Elliot’s Adventures. If you’re new here, you can catch up by returning to the beginning, and reading really fast…
From the shadows of Elliot’s mind, came a whistling chirp. “Is this what dying sounds like?” he wondered idly as darkness stole over his eyes and his body rose above the coarse black rocks. “If it weren’t for the squeezing sensation, I would think this was an out-of-body experience.” Continue reading “Everybody Eats”
How many writers are creating fictional stories for the #AtoZChallenge this year? Are you? Have you come across someone whose stories you’d like to share?
Glad you could join us for the next distressing episode of Elliot’s Adventures. If you’re new here, you can catch up by returning to the beginning, and reading really fast…
Suspended in the wavering blur of Elliot’s desperation, the mesmerizing Passionetta twirled before him, dangerous and distracting. Her voice stroked his weakened will with its ethereal hum, drawing him closer, tempting him with visions of carefree eternal rest.
It would be so easy, he thought, so pleasant, just to lie here and watch her dance. I would never have to move again.
He fought to close his mind to a tiny warning deep within, urging him to resist her beguiling charms. As darkness seeped into his sight, the murmur of alarm faded to the shadow of a whisper.
Time was running out.
Glad you could join us for the next captivating episode of Elliot’s Adventures. If you’re new here, you can catch up by returning to the beginning, and reading really fast…
The ground had changed from a hardened white crust, scraping beneath his foot like the shards of a broken dream, to a rough carpet of crunchy leaves scratching softly at his seeping sole, but Elliot didn’t notice.
His single-minded purpose had pushed him to the peak, a glistening trail of crystalized slime painting his path over the sun-baked clay, drawing a portrait of imminent death as he slipped in and out of conscious awareness, his brain so shriveled and fatigued that the air before his eyes seemed to shimmer with hallucinations.
One of them spoke.
Elliot couldn’t escape his previous cramped quarters quickly enough. Sparing them one brief backward glance, he raced off to seek adventure and fortune. And who knew? Maybe even romance.
To be continued…
“Wait a minute. That’s it? That’s all? You call yourself a writer?” You, feeling cheated by such brevity.
Yes, that’s it, that’s all, and I do call myself a writer, thank you very much. But I want you to get your money’s worth be happy, so I’m offering you a twofer.
Space, Time, and Raspberries 
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