The RocNaNo group frequently posts random writing prompts. This one involves beer, so it caught my eye:
— RocNaNo (@RocNaNo) October 15, 2014
Wild Yeast Continue reading
The floor was hard, but the chair was no longer an option. It had been mangled by W’x’tl’s aggression. It would take some doing to make it a serviceable piece of furniture again. Probably easier to just toss it out and start over.
V’x cooed and stroked my hair, clicking her beak slightly and worrying over the scratches on my arms and shoulders. I didn’t want to move. Everything hurt. It felt as if every part of W’x’tl had been sharp, and she had never missed her mark. Continue reading
I sat facing the door, expecting it to open again at any moment. The grey had left rather suddenly. Maybe it would be back.
V’x was still cooing quietly. I twisted to see her sitting outside of the cage. W’x’tl sat inside, silent, her beak tucked under her wing.
“Vix?” I said, straining to see her. She didn’t move. “Vix!” W’x’tl fluttered, emitting a low threatening trill. Continue reading
“Seth!” Rott’s voice echoed through the dark cavern. “Seth! Are you all right?”
Daggers of pain swept through his body as Seth tried to draw a breath. He inhaled dust and coughed. The pain was sharp. All he managed was a gasp.
A shower of fine dust and rock showered Seth’s face. He was stuck. The left side of his body was pinned beneath a massive boulder. His left hand was throbbing and tingling. He could move his fingers, he thought, but only barely. Continue reading
Crazy things happen when you’re out in the field. I carry lots of equipment for working with rocks, but nothing to ward off invaders. On this day, I was merely trying to have lunch and I found myself wishing I had my sword.
When I’m out doing geology, I seldom think that I’d wish for a sword. But there I was, with a stick and a rock hammer.
And the Clark’s Nutcracker was totally divebombing me. Continue reading
“I think things are calm there for the moment,” I said. V’x was grooming herself and trilling softly. W’x’tl was silent, her face buried in battered feathers.
‘The one is violent,’ said the grey. ‘It fights to escape.’ I felt despair. No, this was what the grey felt. Continue reading
Sometimes, an injury is totally worth it. If you’re gonna get hurt, may as well do it in a real cool way.
People keep asking me what I did to hurt my finger – that annoying injury that’s been driving me crazy for the last six weeks. I’m finally almost back to normal, so maybe this time I’ll actually tell the truth about what happened.
So we were hiking out to look at some really cool structures in the northern part of the The Breaks, where I go do geology every summer. There aren’t too many places out there where there are any trees, but on Owl Ridge, there are lots of junipers and limber pines. We were glad to be there, because it was hot that day. Very hot. Continue reading
V’x lept into the air, flapping her one good wing, wrenching out of the grey’s grasp. “No!” she cried. She turned, rushing for the door. The greys scattered. Only I remained, blocking her path. I grabbed at her feathers as she rushed by. The chair that I sat in spun and fell, but I kept my grip on V’x. Continue reading
The second morning that we dropped into the cave, we found that some poor rodent had fallen to his death the night before. We were surprized when a few days later, an even littler mouse had fallen in, and survived. Who would have thought an 80 foot drop was even survivable? Continue reading