Candace Graue
Musings of a Curious Mind
Prompt writings and other ramblings...
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Prompt: A Year of Creative Writing Prompts, Love in Ink "A star falls in a family's backyard. Only it's not a star but a very friendly alien." Fallen Star Leila stood on the tips of her toes and squinted into the eye-piece on the telescope, holding back her dark black hair from her face. Fireflies floated lazily in the garden around her, crickets sang simple melodies accompanies by the baritone of the occasional owl. The night was moonless and deeply dark. The Milky Way stretched above the garden, a glittering vein of jewels. Leila’s sister, Thuraya, hovered over her. “I don’t see anything!” Leila cried. “Let me see.” Thuraya looked into the telescope and clicked her tongue. “You moved it!” she accused while adjusting the lens. “There, look now but don’t touch it. Do you see?” Leila looked again, one eye scrunched tightly shut, her mouth open slightly. “Yeah, I see it!” “It’s way brighter than all the stars, even Sirius, and Mom says that’s supposed to be the brightest one! It’s not out tonight though.” “Wow! It’s so pretty and extra sparkly and…and it’s coming closer!” “What? No, it’s not!” “Yes, it is! See for yourself!” Leila stepped aside, her lip extended into a pout. Thuraya took her place and gasped. The unusually big and bright star was becoming bigger and bigger, wavering side to side as if it was hurtling toward the earth at an incredible speed. Thuraya moved her eye from the view finder to peer up into the sky. Her eyes widened as she located the star, still growing large by the moment. “Leila…Go inside, now!” Thuraya grabbed her sister’s arm to stop the protest on the little girl’s lips and flung open the sliding glass door, pulled her sister inside, and slammed the door shut. Then, for good measure, she drew the curtains. A loud hissing sound surrounded the house and a glow formed at the edges of the curtains. It grew brighter by the second until the girls hid their faces in each other’s arms. The hissing ended suddenly in a loud crash and the light disappeared. The girls peeked out hesitantly before slowly untangling from each other. “What was that?” Leila mouthed, too scared to break the deep silence. “I dunno,” Thuraya whispered. “Let’s go look, but hold onto my hand.” They slid open the door slowly, just enough to fit through. Instantly, Thuraya saw small fires on the grass and bushes. “Oh, no! Stay here, DON’T MOVE! I’m going to get the hose.” She sped off to the other side of the house while Leila looked around for what could have made such a big noise. The night seemed even darker and the fireflies were gone. No crickets or owls were singing now. The telescope had fallen over, its lens probably cracked. She looked into the sky as Thuraya returned and started to douse the small fires with hose water. “The star is gone,” Leila said after a while. “What?” Thuraya snapped her head back, searching. “You’re right…” “It fell, Thuraya. It fell here.” Her big sister didn’t answer at first, but then she nodded. “Yeah, I think you’re right. Let’s look for it.” They started to scan the garden, leaning close to the ground, picking up rocks and peering at them closely before tossing them aside. Their mother had told them that falling stars were really meteorites that burned up in the atmosphere as they fell to Earth. So they kept on the look out for any blackish rocks with the porous yet shiny texture they had seen once at the museum. But after two hours of searching, they had found nothing but the sparkly white rocks of their father’s well-manicured garden. “I don’t see it,” Leila whined. The night had advanced well beyond her bed-time. “Me either. Wait; what’s that?” Thuraya peered into one of the hydrangea bushes where she had glimpsed a vague flicker of light. “I saw a light. There it is again—oh, it’s gone.” “It’s just a firefly.” “No, it was different. There!” This time, the flicker held to a low glow beneath the leaves and blue flower orbs. “Leila help me hold these bushes back.” The girls peered into the darkness at two dimly glowing lumps, each about the side of a grapefruit. “Is it a rock?” Leila whispered. “Maybe.” Thuraya gasped suddenly. “It moved!” The lump rolled slowly from side to side, emitting a small noise like a chick chirping but with a delayed echo. “Hold the bush,” Thuraya whispered. She slowly reached down to touch a shaking finger to the lump. She pulled back her hand. “It’s hot, like a mug of tea and feels really smooth and sorta squishy.” She reached down to gently push the lump over as it rocked. They both gasped. It was a creature unlike any they had seen. Large, closed slits marked its eyes in a small round head with five pointed horn-like protrusions, much like a star but rounded at the tips. The body was bulbous and had no visible limbs other than a small tail. The body and head were about the same size. A dim light pulsed between its eyes in and out of darkness. “It’s an alien!” Leila whisper-shouted. “I think it’s hurt...I’m going to take it inside. Go get your doll cradle and your baby blanket.” Leila ran ahead immediately. Thuraya, her heart pounding in her ears, reached down slowly and slipped her fingers under the creature. It had a weight that belied its size and felt like a water balloon. The creature’s head hung as dead weight, so she cradled it in two hands. It didn’t stir, but the light continued to pulse. She held it out at arm’s length, scared that it would wake up and bite her. Or worse. An alien? Would it abduct them? She brought it inside and upstairs into her room where Leila was waiting on the floor beside a doll-sized wooden cradle stuffed with soft blankets and a toy cat. “What is that for?” Thuraya asked. “What if it gets scared or lonely? And the ears kinda look like its bumps.” Thuraya shrugged and gently set the creature into the cradle. “It’s still warm,” she said, “but not as warm. And the light is dimmer.” “I’ll heat up the hot water bottle!” “Good idea.” They wrapped the bottle with the creature inside the blankets, turned up the thermostat, and put a heat lamp they used in winter next to the cradle. “Are you sure it should be this warm?” Leila asked. “If it is a star, stars are hot, right?” “What if it’s mean?” “It’s too cute to be mean.” The girls stayed up watching the creature for as long as they could. But though its glow continued to pulse, it did not open its eyes. Eventually both girls succumbed to sleep, just as the dawn was breaking over their country home. A small, echoing squeak woke Thuraya first. She sat up on the floor, blinking in the late afternoon light coming through her lace curtains. The room was unbearably hot, though the space heater had turned off automatically. Sweat trickled down her face and she was parched, but the squeaking distracted her from her thirst and brought the memories of the night before rushing back. Inside the cradle, the creature was rummaging around, squeaking. Trembling, she reached out and pulled back the blanket. A bright light like a bulb shone, blinding her briefly. As her eyes adjusted she saw the creature staring up at her. It had huge, lemon-shaped black eyes speckled with pin-pricks of light, a galaxy in each orb. The glow it emitted was brighter at the center of its forehead and it seemed to have two layers to its body; a bright center that shifted viscous-like around its face and stomach, and a dimmer, almost translucent layer on its edges, like an ameba. It peeped at Thuraya again and she could see no mouth or nose. She looked at Leila who was still sleeping with a line of drool on her cheek. Thuraya shook her awake gently. “Leila. Look.” Leila gasped as soon as she came to and moved closer to her sister to watch it. The creature seemed content to watch them back, peeping now and then. “What should we do?” Leila asked. “Should we call Mom and Dad?” “NO! They’ll give it to the police or animal control or something. We wouldn’t even get credit for finding it and they might hurt it! Besides, Mom and Dad won’t be back from their conference until tomorrow. They’re not going to believe we found an alien.” “Maybe it’s hungry. What would a star eat?” “Hmm…Mom said that stars combine elements inside their cores.” “What does that mean?” “Um, I can’t explain it, but let’s try feeding it rocks.” “Rocks? Ew!” “Well, stars don’t eat chicken sandwiches. Let’s just see. Go get some rocks from the garden.” Leila didn’t complain, though secretly she thought her sister was being a bit bossy and hogging the star to herself. She picked out the prettiest white rocks, as many as she could carry. Upstairs, she insisted on feeding them to the star herself, since she had gone to fetch them. “Fine,” Thuraya consented begrudgingly, but don’t touch it yet. Set them down next to it.” Leila steeled herself then set the first rock just an inch away from the creature. It tilted its head side to side, peering at the rock like a lizard. Then, from its belly two thin, wispy arms appeared, stretching out to wrap around the rock and pull it toward itself. The rock sank into its body and the center glowed bright red as the arms disappeared back into a smooth surface. The red glow faded and the creature looked at Leila, making a sound like running a finger over the teeth of a comb. “I think it’s happy, Leila! Give it another.” Leila obliged and giggled when the tendril arms reached out again. “We should name it,” she said. “How about Star or Twinkle?” “No, that’s boring. How about….We were looking at the Orion constellation last night. We could name it Orion.” “Okay!” Leila turned back to the creature. “Hi, Orion!” She reached out a finger to touch it before Thuraya could stop her. Leila screamed and snatched her hand back. A red burn formed over her finger tip. Tears started filling her eyes. “Oh, no! Stay here, don’t touch Orion again.” Thuraya ran downstairs and returned with a small bowl filled with water and a few ice cubes. “Here, soak your finger in this.” “He was so hot! Like a hot pan!” “Well, he was only a little warm last night, and if he’s a star… he must be getting better if he’s hotter now.” “Is he going to keep getting hotter?” “Maybe; don’t touch him without oven mitts, okay? I’ll go get some.” Moments later, Thuraya had two chicken-print oven mitts on her hands. She hesitated. After a long moment, she reached out and gently reubbed the mitt on the creature’s belly. The light inside it flickered and wobbled and the creature blinked its big eyes rapidly in surprise, but gradually it made the same clicking squeaks as when it ate the rocks. It blinked slowly now, like a sleepy cat. Leila giggled and Thuraya beamed. For a while the sisters took turns petting Orion and fetching rocks to feet it—or ‘him’, as they decided. Suddenly, Thuraya stopped rubbing his belly.“Do you smell that?” Leila sniffed and shook her head. “It smells like something’s burning.” Then Thuraya noticed the thin wisps of smoke rising from the cradle. Gasping, she gently, but quickly lifted Orion from the cradle using the oven mitts. Orion peeped, but otherwise did not protest. Beneath him, the blankets and a corner of the stuffed cat’s face were burned brown. “Oh, dear.” Thuraya looked at Orion. “I can feel his heat through the mitts. I think he’s just going to keep getting hotter.” “What should we do?” “Let’s set him on the driveway for now, so he doesn’t burn the house down. Sorry about your blanket and cat.” Outside, the sun had begun to set and the first stars were blinking into view. The sister set Orion on the concrete driveway. He squirmed around, propelling his body by wiggling like a snail. The horns on his head rose and shrank. The glow in his head grew brighter in the night and the lights in his eyes glittered as he tilted his head to gaze at the night sky. Leila and Thuraya watched him silently, a sad realization settling over them. “He wants to go home,” Leila murmured. “Yeah, and we can’t keep him. Look, he’s even absorbing the concrete.” Indeed, the concrete under the creature showed a little depression compared to the rest of the smooth driveway. Leila walked up to Orion and bent down. “You can go home,” she cooed. “You’re free. We won’t stop you.” Orion just peeped at her, looked at Thuraya and peeped again. “What are we going to do?” Leila asked as she stood up, a note of desperation creeping into her voice. Then her sister said something Leila almost never heard her say. “I don’t know.” Silence settled over them as they watched Orion slowly eat deeper into the concrete. Would he consume their whole house?” Finally, Leila said, “Orion is a fallen star, right?” “I guess; he fell like one.” “Well, you’re supposed to make wishes on falling stars. Maybe if we make a wish, he can go home, like a genie kinda.” Thuraya looked skeptical, lifting a brow at her sister, but shrugged. “Might as well try. It won’t hurt if it doesn’t work. Go ahead and wish for something.” “Well, I have to think. This is serious!” Leila’s face screwed up a bit as she though hard. After a while she bent down by Orion again and looked into the star-shaped creature’s deep, black eyes. “I wish for a puppy,” she said with the weight of a queen’s proclamation. Orion suddenly started to chirp faster and faster. The glow from his forehead grew brighter until the girls had to shield their eyes. Gradually the light faded to the brightness of a lamp again. When Thuraya moved her arms she saw Leila staring at Orion slack-jawed. “I think it worked!” Leila cried. “You know…I think so, too.” “I don’t see a puppy, though.” “Maybe we have to wait. But you made your wish and Orion hasn’t left yet.” Orion turned to set his orb-like eyes on Thuraya and snail-wiggled over to her, leaving a thin trail in the concrete behind him. He chirped at Thuraya’s feet and waited. “You helped him, too, so you have to make a wish, too,” Leila said. Thuraya scoffed. “This is dumb.” But she gazed up into the sky, pondering, nonetheless. Feeling fooling, she knelt down and flashed an awkward smile at Orion. “I wish to become an astronaut, please.” Again, Orion chirped like gunfire and glowed so bright it turned twilight into daytime. As it faded, Thuraya felt a quickening in her heart, an assurance that her wish had somehow come true. Leila walked over to her sister’s side and knelt beside her. “You can go home, Orion; it’s okay. We’ll always remember you.” The creature peeped and blinked slowly as each of them, brightening the glow briefly. Then it wiggled away from them to the center of the driveway. The light grew brightened and a hissing sound filled the air, the same way it had when the creature had crashed into the garden. “Move back!” Thuraya cried, pulling Leila far onto the lawn in front of their house just as they both had to cover their eyes from the light. The hissing reached a fever pitch, almost painful, but somewhere in the white noise were a few farewell chirps. The sudden darkness was deep and the silence was deafening. Orion was nowhere to be seen. Thuraya could make out the creature’s tracks in the driveway as her eyes adjusted. She and Leila looked up into the sky. They saw a sliver of moon and to the right, just a few inches to their eyes, was a brilliantly bright star that Thuraya couldn’t remember ever seeing before. She knew Leila could see it, too. It twinkled quickly and they could almost hear the purr-like chirping of Orion. “No one will believe us,” Leila sad sadly. “No one will ever know.” Thuraya hugged her sister tightly. The twinkling of the star settled into a steady, slow sparkle. “We’ll know. No one else has to. We won’t ever forget.” “Do you think our wishes came true?” “I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see. Mom and Dad will be back tomorrow. I wonder what they’ll think of the marks in the driveway. Let’s just say we don’t know about it. Come on, let’s go toss out the blankets and fix the telescope.” The next day, the girl’s parents pulled their SUV into the driveway. The sisters waited for them outside by the front door. Their father, short and sporting a thick, black beard, got out from the driver’s seat. “That was weird, the driveway felt kind of rough…,” he said, scanning the concrete. “Girls, come here!” their mother interrupted as she got out, her black hair covered in a head scarf and her arms filled with binders and books. The sisters stepped off the stop nervously, wondering if they’d be interrogated about the marks in the driveway. Their father walked over to the trunk with a grin so big his eyes almost disappeared. “We have a surprise for you!” he sang. With his wife smiling beside him, he dramatically opened the trunk, which lifted up to reveal a fluffy, golden puppy with a slender face. Leila and Thuraya both gasped and stared at each other in disbelief. “Ta-da!” shouted their father. “He’s a golden retriever mix we picked up! We suddenly decided you girls deserved a dog.” The puppy wagged its tail and paced the edge of the trunk, whimpering to be let down. “But you have to walk him every day,” said their mother. “And watch him closely out back. I don’t want him digging up my garden.” Their father lifted the puppy out of the car and set his wriggling body into Thuraya’s arms. Both girls had tears in their eyes. Their father stood back with his hands on his hips. “Well, say something!” “Thank you so much,” Leila whispered, her face buried in the puppy’s fur. “Can you think of a name for him?” their mother asked. “Orion!” the sister both said at once. Their parents looked at each other in surprise. “We were looking at Orion in the telescope last night,” Thuraya quickly said. “It sounds like a good name.” Their mother smiled, proud that her daughters liked astronomy as much as she did. “It is a good name. Okay, Orion. Let’s take him inside.” As they walked up to the door, Thuraya let Leila carry Orion. It was her wish, after all. Her mother sidled up to her. “So, you used the telescope last night. Did you have fun?” “Yeah,” Thuraya responded dreamily. “I want to be an astronaut, Mom.” “An astronaut? That’ll take a lot of hard work. You gotta get really good grades.” “I know.” Thuraya tilted her head back to look up at the sky. “But I know my wish will come true.”
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Prompt: A Year of Creative Writing Prompts, Love in Ink
"Peaches" Peach The heat of summer seeps in through gaps under the sliding glass door. It defies our air conditioner and the sickly sweet scent of our sweat hands heavy in the room. We slouch over the sofa, far apart. Too hot to touch. Her face is flushed, pink and ripe. I reach out to stroke her leg. A thin layer of prickly hair covers her shin. Too hot to shave. Her skin is sticky like syrup. She is peach. The peach’s juice runs down her pink cheeks as she bites and slurps. She wipes at the corners of her mouth with her hands and licks her fingers. She scratches her lip where the fuzz tickles. She sucks on the pit until it’s clean. I kiss her and taste the sweetness on her tongue. She is peach. The sweet syrup fills my mouth as I sink into her peace pink thighs. We are sticky from sweat; it’s too hot but the soft fuzz tickles the corners of my mouth and she is ripe. I lick her lips. I suck on the pit until it’s clean and her cheeks flush pink. We are peach. |