Prompt - 3

Life is not a fairytale. If you lose your shoes at midnight, you are drunk!
“Be strong”, I whisper to my WiFi signal!
”If you are going through hell, keep going.”
– Winston Churchill

djinn, demons, wizards world

hmm what to choose, what to choose

A Matter of Prompts

Title: A Matter of Prompts or When You Find Your Prince and Drinking
Author: charisstoma
Word count: 489


I pet the laptop in my lap, giggling at the thought, ‘laptop and lap’. “Be strong,” I whisper, praying that the WiFi connection will be and will do what it’s supposed to, as in work. “Don’t drop off,” I croon. “I need you for spelling and thesaurus help.”

The two prompts are written in large letters, hovering high on the wall in encouragement.
“You can do this,” I tell myself. “Sure it’s been a while since you’ve done any fictional writing, but you CAN do this. You can write your way out of this.”

The furnace woke somewhere in the lowest level of the house, blowing warm air to flutter the prompting banners. I don’t want to go down there. It’s dark. There are eight legged beings lurking down there.. waiting.

Hmmm, I muse reading the topmost prompt, ‘Life is not a fairytale. If you lose your shoes at midnight, you are drunk!’

“Ha! The Cinder person only lost one shoe. So she must not have been drunk. If she’d lost both shoes then the Prince must have had her legs up over his shoulders and he didn’t want a shoe, glass or otherwise near his face. Nasty things those pointy heels. Nope, not while he was plowing the field, so to speak, not while trying to plant an other-side of the blanket product inside Cinder.”

Sigh. “So what’s my excuse and mine were slip-ons.” I shifted on the pillow cushioning my aching ass from the hard chair, not that it was helping much. I’d gotten plowed royally in both definitions of the word. “Here’s hoping there’s no little being trying to gestate in there.” I looked down at my belly and grinned, “Luckily guys only get knocked up in m-preg fairytales. Still I wonder where my shoes got off to, while my prince was getting us both off. A person needs shoes.” I was whining. I knew that.

“He could at least have left my shoes so I could walk home. Which brings me to the other prompt, ‘If you are going through hell, keep going.’ Good old Churchill quote.”

I shake myself trying not to dislodge the blanket I’ve wrapped around my body. The warm air flutters the banners but that’s not why I’ve wrapped myself up. It’s protection of another kind. My shoes weren’t the only things lost last night and “I’m not even going to think about what my tender ass means to my virginity status.” I’m naked.

“Is this enough?”, I ask the air. “I’ve used both prompts. Can I go home now?”

Laughter answers me and my ass reminds me that he said something about waiting for the test results. Demon pregnancy tests are sensitive, he said, and if it didn’t take this time he’d revisit me next drinking binge until I was. I sigh. “I never should have tempted him, telling him I used to write paranormal porn,” and I grinned.