A while back, I created a Pinterest board where I could pin cool/interesting pictures to help me with inspiration for future stories. Shortly after that, my sister, who liked my idea, created her own board to give me more inspiration. After they slowly gathered Internet dust, I decided to dust them off to help me in my never-ending quest of daily writing.
How, you ask? Well, let me tell you. First, I will pick a picture or random topic and, second, write at least one sentence (and no more than a page or two) on whatever comes to mind. Additionally, I’m hopeful that some of these shorter stories will evolve into larger ones and perhaps even novels!
Ideally, this will accomplish several things for me. One, I will develop the habit of writing everyday; because, even if I don't work on my novel, I will take 15 mins and write a snippet. Two, it will stretch my creativity muscle and strengthen my ability to think and imagine. Three, it will put me in the mind set to write as a type of exercise, as well as, encourage me to write further in my novel. Four, it will be a fun way to dabble in many genres and lead to future novels and short stories.
I would love for you to join me if you feel so inclined. Everyday (for the next month), I am going to post a picture with my snippet or shorter story. Then you can post either your addition to my piece, your own story, or both! I would also appreciate feedback; what did you think? do you want more on a certain snippet? etc.
Here is my first one that I thought really worked with Halloween. Happy reading while you eat your well-deserved candy!
The Metal Heart
4:00 am. Four missed calls. Four tubes left to connect. I ignore my burning eyes, my aching back, and my scratched and frozen hands, as I painstakingly make sure everything is perfect. The cold metal bites my skin and four drops of blood fall, splattering across its' surface. I connect the final tube, turn the pump on, and sit back in my chair. I wait, holding my breath. One minute. Two minutes. Three minutes. Four. Then the heart thumps to life, matching the rhythm of my own. After four months of long nights, I had finally finished it.
My daughter, Mary, would live.
Now my wife, Elizabeth, would understand why I couldn’t visit her in the hospital, and why I’d had to quit work. I’d needed to make Mary an unbreakable heart so that she could come home.
My phone vibrates and lights up, casting eerie shadows across the beating metal organ. I answer it, eager to tell Elizabeth that I have saved our daughters' life. “Frank, why didn’t you answer my phone calls? I’ve been trying for hours.” Her voice is scratchy and full of emotion.
“I finished it.”
“Finished what, Frank?”
“Mary’s mechanical heart.”
“You built her a heart?”
“Yes, I did, and now, she can come home. Elizabeth?”
There was a long pause. “Frank, she already is. Mary...she died four minutes ago. We are bringing her home for the funeral." Elizabeth takes a deep breath. "Before she died, I heard her whisper, ‘Daddy, why are you doing this to me?’ What is she talking about? What did you do, Frank? Does it have to do with that metal heart you said you’ve been building? Why won’t you answer...”
The phone drops from my hands, smashing apart. And over my screams of horror and anguish I hear the steady thump-thump, thump-thump.
Witch they called her. Unholy. Demon. Sorceress. Necromancer. Evil. Alanya hugged her body tighter causing the ink trees to rustle. She knew it was the ever-changing tattoos on her body that made people fear her. But, just because she had powers of darkness didn’t make her evil. Just because people could walk in the daytime didn’t make them good. Right?
