A Pet's Perspective

          Since no one else has come up with a prompt, here's a fun idea! Write from a pet's perspective. (It doesn't have to be from your pet's; it could be a made up pet. :) )

          I trotted out into the backyard. Finally! Out of the boring and stuffy house!
          Lifting my nose to the breeze, I sniffed deeply to test for new smells. Oh, glorious outside!
          Rustle.
          I lifted my ears and strained to look. Is that...?
          I ran forward in ecstasy. It IS!!!!!
          The trespassing squirrel ran for its life to the big tree. Jumping up, I just missed nipping the squirrel's tail. I ignored its angry chattering and jumped up at the tree, trying to reach it.
          Almost!....I'll get you, you little bushy-tailed....Ha! Almost got you that time.....Beg for mercy, you buck-toothed, pointy-eared....
          "Venus!"
          I turned to look at Emily as she tapped her foot impatiently. "The squirrel isn't coming down, so come on! I have other stuff I need to do than stand around here watching you torment a squirrel."
          Turning away, I ran around the tree to make sure the squirrel hadn't moved.
          "No, Venus! Inside....now!"
          Fine. I sighed to myself. Humans will never understand.
          As I trotted to her, Emily smiled and said, "Good, girl. Come on....inside!"
          Before we headed inside, I glanced back at the squirrel. Next time....

It Tuesday Darlings

This week's prompt is not a sentence though you could use it as one, it's just a prompt...

 "Do a description of the Mind." 

I wrote to it a few weeks ago, and it was so fun I thought I'd share it with ya'll. I put two just because they weren't that long, and I liked them both.. So with out further or due, WRITE AWAY!
(Oh quick note! When you write things it would be grate if you tagged them, just when you are writing the post there with be a side bar and one says Labels, click that and then tag it with your name and what it is, like it it's an exert out of a book or a prompt, tag that stuff, it makes searching the blog latter a lot easier! Thanks!)

A Forest Caller Her Mind

The movie reflected light on her face, and made shadows exaggerate her fetchers. She pulled her knees to her chest, pulling them tight to her self, and then sat her chin on her knee. He wondered if she always scrunched like that, she was always sitting on her knees or cross legged. And it was funny because it made her look so small. She would look as though she could just fit in a box or like he could wrap his whole being around her. And yet when she stood you would find she was a towering giant, taller than most any girl you could think of and about the same height as most of the boys you knew. His eyes traced her silhouette, embedding an impression of her on his mind. He would remember her small, but what he didn’t realize at that time was that she was bigger than that. Not in height, the height was obvious, but in thoughts. She would never be conformed to a box, never let anything wrap all the way around her, because she was bigger than it all. Her thoughts were like rainbows all shooting in a different direction, they were embedded with flowers and exalted by the wind. They came in all the different shades of the sea, and you knew that in her mind she was always standing, hair in the wind watching them. Studying the different shapes and shades of plants that grew in the forest called her mind.

The Weeds

Weeds sprung up and spread like dust behind a speeding car on a gravel road. They blossomed and seeded in that dark place, whispering lies and submitting temptation. “Eat me!” the Nightshade cried.  “Touch.” the Poison Ivy hissed. And the mind did so, unknowingly bruising itself. Submitting to the temptations that where self destructing. Never light was seen behind the thick skull these things called home. They hid in the dark where the belonged, never letting anyone see them as the weakness they were.  “No need to tell of us, we are your friends, you can find yourself here and we will wait always here. We tasted like sugar and we feel like silk, what harm are we?” They sweetly said to the owner of their abode and because of their pretty colors and their silent being the owner of the land let them stay, never seeing nor realizing what damage they did to his crops each day, and what misery they caused him when he slept at night.

I had fun writing this!

          Nate watched in amazement from the twentieth floor as the lights all over the city went out. He pulled out his cell only to have it ring in his hand. He flipped it open. "Jan?"
          He winced as her voice shrieked in his ear. "Did you see it?"
          "Yes, I saw it."
          "I've never seen anything like it! Hold on... Zack is calling....I'll put him on..."
          Zack's deep voice came onto the phone. "I'm calling everyone to HQ now. If you see anything strange or unusual on your way, call immediately."
          Nate started running towards the stairs. "Yes, sir." He clapped his phone shut and shoved it into his pocket.
          Down on the ground, he looked around. People streamed out of buildings and clustered into chattering groups. Taxies parked haphazardly on the street. No chance of getting a cab. Nate sighed and started running.
          He met up with Xander on the way. "Any more news from HQ?" Xander panted, a hand pressed to his side.
          "No." Nate pressed on, his eyes glued ahead. "Come on, barrel belly, it's just a few more blocks."
          "Barrel belly yourself." Xander muttered. "I'm only three pounds heavier than you."
          "And you're also six inches shorter." Nate retorted. "Stop talking and get moving."
          Rita waited for them outside the doors. "Any more news?"
          Nate shook his head.
          Gus came around the corner with Jan. "Anything more from Zack?"
          Xander pushed open the door. "If there was, don't you think we'd tell you?"
          As he came in with the others, Nate stopped and tilted his head. "Did you hear that?"
          "Hear what?" Jan asked but Nate was already sprinting to the stairs.
          He heard Xander grumble behind him. "Can't that guy go at a normal pace?" Nate turned to head up the next flight just in time to see Gus shove him in the back. "Stop complaining. Come on!"
          The first thing Nate saw when he slammed open the doors to the meeting room was a body laying in a pool of blood. The next thing he saw was someone jumping out the window.
          Nate hesitated, then ran over to the prone figure. "Zack!"
          The others crowded around in the doorway as Nate turned him over. He swallowed hard and turned away. "Gus, get the girls out of here."
          "We're not weaklings." Rita snorted as she walked to where he crouched. She paled when she looked over his shoulder. "Oh, Zack."
          Jan whimpered. Nate turned to see her bury her face in Xander's shoulder.
          Gus went to the window. "There's no sign of who did this. How are we going to find out what happened?"
          "There's no need to find out what you already know." Nate stood up. "I'm betting whoever shot Zack is also the one who shut the city's power off."
          "Who?" Rita asked.
          Jan pulled her face from Xander's shirt. Her face was remarkably composed. "Who did it, Nate?"
          Nate paused, then said in barely controlled rage. "I saw his face as he jumped out the window. It was Bane."
          Rita gasped. "Your brother?!"
         
         

         "As he took in the view from the twentieth floor, the lights went out all over the city."

     The man in sunglasses gently picked up the briefcase from the floor and walked purposefully towards the door. 

    "Have a pleasant evening, sir." The concierge said, as the man slipped past him out into the busy streets of London. 

    "I will." The man said under his breath. He walked straight to the curb were the black Mercedes was waiting for him. 

    "Some weather we are having this evening." He said to the driver when he had closed the door. The driver nodded once.

    "Only the best, my second cousin is in town." The man blinked, knowing the driver was legit.

"Where too, sir?"

    "Just a walk in the park, if you'd be so kind." 

    "As you wish." They pulled out into Bridge St. from Belvedere Rd. going west, and crossed over the river. Then turned north on Whitehall.

    "How is your Aunt?" the man asked.

    "She recently had the influenza."

    "Was she cured?"

    "Oh yes, sir. She has had no more difficulties with her health."    

    "Excellent, I hope she has no more problems."

    "The doctors were not able to find anything else that might cause her to become sick again." The man reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a mobile phone. 

    "Do we have mission approval?" he typed into the phone and tapped 'send'. Barely three seconds went by before the phone beeped and he received his answer.

    "Redemption is a go."

Then,

    "Eliminate him."

    "On second thought," the man said. "I feel rather tired, let me get out of the car." The driver pulled down an alley, and put the car in park. 

    "You are breaking protocol, Devon." The driver said, turning in his seat to look at his passenger. He was met with a bullet between his eyes from the end of a silenced pistol. The man opened his door , picked up his briefcase, and walked down the alley toward the main road. He tapped three times on his mobile phone and held it to his ear. 

    "Number?" A woman spoke in his ear. 

    "74385911." The man said. 

    "State your urgency, 74385911." She said.

    "Orange." 

    "Please wait." Two seconds later, a man spoke. 

    "Yes, Agent 74385911."

    "Awaiting emergency transpiration to Redemption ground zero."

    "Confirmation 4893. Three minutes, 6829304-5"

    "Affirmative." He slipped the phone back into his jacket, and turned to look at himself in the reflective panels on the opposite building. His grey suit was slightly rumpled, and he smoothed it with his free hand. Then straightened the navy blue tie around his neck, and readjusted the sunglasses on his nose. 

    Exactly three minutes later, a black Mercedes SUV pulled up next to him. He opened the door and slipped onto the back seat. 

    "Number?" The man asked

    "6829304-5." the driver answered. "We have little time." 

    "Yes." The drove without any more conversation, and it started to rain. Seven minutes later they pulled up in front of a modern office building. The man stepped out of the car and walking into the building. The rain making little dark spots on his suit. He walked straight to the elevators and pressed the bottom for level thirty-one. The button glowed yellow, and the elevator started to rise. At the ninth level, the elevator stopped, and the doors slid open. The man's eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses. 

    A tall black man entered the elevator and pressed the button the the thirty-second floor. The man's mobile phone beeped and he pulled it from his inside suit pocket.

    "Eliminate him." The message said. The man put the phone back into his pocket and retrieved the silenced pistol from his shoulder holster. he maneuvered it under his left arm and pressed it into the black man's side. He slowly squeezed the trigger. The black man opened his mouth, and a small sigh escaped him before his knees buckled and he fell to the floor of the elevator. The doors opened at the thirty-first floor. Two men were waiting at the doors. They said nothing to the man as he passed, they stepped into the elevator with the dead body and the doors slid shut.

    The man walked down the hall and stopped at room number 31-31. The door opened, and a woman was waiting there for him. "Come in." she said.

  

     He stepped inside and set his briefcase down on the table. Pulling out a chair, he sat down. The woman sat down opposite from him.  He slid the briefcase across the table to her. She entered in the passcode and the case popped open. She looked at the contents and nodded. The man took off his sunglasses, and laid them on the table in front of him. 

    "Grade?" she asked. 

    "The best." he replied.  

    "Creator?"

    "Alpha."

    "Time of detonation?"

    "Twenty-two hundred hours."

    "Landmass?"

     "One hundred square meters." 

    "Your mission in complete, Agent. It has been a pleasure working with you." She stood and extended her hand. He took it and shook it. 

    "Affirmative." He put on his sunglasses and turned, leaving the room. He walked down the hall to the elevator. As he waited for the elevator, a conversation he had had three years ago came back to him. 

    "A new life." Alpha said. "A better life." His words were followed by applause. 

    "This opportunity will open hundreds of doors for our organization." 

    The elevator doors opened and he stepped in, pressing the button for the ground floor. The doors slid shut.

    "We will make incredible advances in technology. We will create a new civilization. And it starts right here." More applause. The man remembered how Alpha outlined their plan. It started with an explosive. The same explosive that the man had just delivered to the woman behind the door 31-31. How once the bomb exploded, the city would initiate Omission Procedure. Where the power to the city would be shut off. This would leave Alpha room to do what he wishes with the city. 

    The doors opened and he exited the building. He opened the door to the black SUV. The rain was now falling heavily, and the driver had the wipers speeding back and forth across the windshield. 

    "Mission Complete. I am going home." the man said. The car pulled into traffic and sped away through the rain. They pulled up in front of a hotel, the man got out of the car for the last time, and jogged into the building. He took the elevator the the twentieth floor. Opened the door to his room and walked across the room. He opened the sliding door and stepped out onto the terrace.He glanced down at his watch, it read 21:57.

    "Three minutes." he said softly to himself. He stood silently until the watch read 21:59:59.

He looked up and as he took in the view from the twentieth floor, there was an explosion across town as Buckingham Palace exploded into a million pieces. The man smiled as the light went out all over the city. He pulled out his mobile phone. 

    "Mission Complete." He typed. And a helicopter appeared from over his hotel. A ladder fell from it and the man stepped off the balcony onto the ladder. The helicopter rose and carried the man with it as it left the dark mass of what used to be London, England. 

    

   

Writing prompt #1.

 A radiant, blinding light filled the hotel room. Stretching to every corner and 

crevasse, filling them up with it's unnatural brilliance. Alex grimaced at 

the piercing light, pulling his blankets over his head like a cowl and crawling out 

of his bed.  The two lamps in the room scintillated and flicked till the bulbs 

inside fractured into a million pieces. The Outlets sparked fiercely and his phone  

charger became engulfed in flames and grew down the cord. Reaching the end,  

within an instant of touching the phone, it exploded. Alex, watching all of this,  

pressed himself up against his bed, dodging the pieces of flying phone. The 

digital clock burst immediatly after.  The blinding light from the window

reached him even in the supposed shadow of his bed. It left no place 

untouched.  In his homemade head covering, he ran for the dresser where his 

sunglasses ensconce themselves. The light completely washed out his skin in a 

brilliant white and rendered him momentarily sightless. Alex pulled the blankets 

over his legs, wishing he had worn pants, instead of shorts, to bed. He blindly 

reached for the dresser and crammed his Aviators  on his face and glanced 

around. Black spots danced in his view and the  combination of the light and his 

sunglasses  covered the room in an odd yellowish tint. Activity outside his 

window caught his  attention and he slowly rolled his head in the direction of his 

window. Alex edged towards the glass, unable to comprehend what he saw. 

People lay prostrate on the ground, trying to shield themselves from the light. 

Screams echoed against the sky scrapers of New York City. Every Atm, street 

vendor, soda machine, anything connected to electricity, exploded together. Alex 

squinted from behind his Aviators, trying to find the source of the light. Yet, it 

seemed to come from everywhere, the pavement, the windows, the cars, and 

even the trees. No one could escape it.

    Fire burned in the streets and riots of people ran around, like ants after their 

hill was recked. Eyes closed, they smacked and trampled each other, searching 

for a safe haven.

Right down the center of the street, off in the distance, stood a power plant. 

Unlike everything else electric in the city, it hadn't erupted. It grew brighter and 

more dazzling by the second, so did the filling light. Alex stood in the window, 

perfectly outlined in his shorts, white, cut-off t-shirt, and glistening Aviators. His

special forces tattoo seemed to glow on his inner arm, reflecting the light, as 

was everything else. He could see the city flawlessly. Nothing was hidden from 

him. Even the Apache helicopters that flew down the street, incredibly close to 

the buildings. The beat of the blades matched his beating heart. They flew with 

purpose, straight towards the power plant. Two missiles were released from 

each bird. They flew with an even greater purpose. The detonation vibrated the 

city to it's core.
   
     A powerful wind swept away from the plant and into the city. It 

blew out all the windows as it hit. Alex ran for the protection of the bed, taking 

cover beside it, away from the full length windows. The energy wind spilt the 

glass and move into the room with a hurricane worthy force. The furniture was 

pushed from their places and tossed about the room. The bed, where Alex hid, 

was launch at the wall. Alex felt the wind send him into the wall, the bed 

following. Alex yanked his arm from where it had been driven through the 

drywall. He fell flat as the bed was hurdled after him, crushing him against the 

rough carpet. The wind moved on and Alex was left trapped under the bed, 

silence filling the bedroom. He lay, facing the wall, one arm under him, the other 

stretched above his head twisted at an odd angle. He felt every inch of his body 

being crushed with the weight and the remainders of his phone digging into his 

side. He slowly brought his twisted arm back to his body, groaning as he twisted 

it farther to the side. Trying to bring himself to his hands and knees, his 

shirt rip on his broken phone. The furniture above him creaked as he moved it 

off himself. With one final yell, he lifted it above his head and slipped through 

the crack he had created. The bed fell with a crash, the dresser perched on top 

of it. He panted with the effort, his hands hanging limply at his side. The suites 

he had hung so carefully in the closet had been viciously whipped out and torn 

to shreds. Clothes hung out of the dresser drawers and about the room. Alex 

moved carefully, trying not to step on the broken glass. He picked up his locked 

brief case and punched in the passcode. It popped open and he selected one of 

the five cell phones that were mixed among the seven different passports. He 

pressed only two numbers before holding it to his ear. It rang once, then twice, 

then stopped. There was silence on the other end.

    "Houston," Alex spoke softly. "We have a problem." He stepped across the 

broken glass to the edge of the window and let his toes hang over the edge. 

    "Agreed." said a monotone voice on the other end. Alex let his ripped shirt be

tossed in the wind as he felt the phone grow hot in his hand. A funny sensation 

ran down his side and he discovered that he had been cut. He pulled a piece of 

cell phone from his side and brought his hand to his face. Blood. That was 

nothing new to him.

    "Abort misson, Houston." said the voice. It didn't show on the outside, but 

Alex could feel his world crumbling within him. A total darkness starting in his 

heart and moving to his head.

    He tried to reply, but a pressure grew in his throat, for the first time ever. He 

wasn't aware that he was capable of emotions, let alone crying. They had made 

sure of that a long time ago. A straggled, "Yes, Sir." escaped his throat, but he 

made no attempt to correct it.

    "Goodbye, Houston." the voice said. Alex knew it was the last time he would 

hear that terrible voice, and somewhere deep inside, he was glad. He dropped

the phone out the window and watched it burn, never hitting the ground. As he 

took in the view from the twentieth floor, the lights went out all over the city.  

The cries of the people were silenced, only to be brought back up to maximum 

volume, in an never ending crescendo. 
    
    Alex sighed, but silently laughed to himself. 

  'And I thought I would have a free weekend." 

Prompt 2 (Prompt to what darling?)

As he took in the view from the twentieth floor, the lights went out all over the city.... 

The sky was a ever faded navy, drifting in that place between day and night, the lights had flipped on only a few minutes before, and some of the pencil pushers still attempted to read by the dim light left over from the day. But at the sky-scraping office tower of Rampit everyone had already left for home, and Fredrick Owers the janitor rode the glass elevator to the 20th floor to start his routine cleaning. He watched as a storm circled around the city getting ready to at any moment strike like a venomous snake. Even as he watched it grow and listened to the wind howl, he hoped that the majority of the storm would hold off till he got home. He hated being in the large building when the electricity went out, or the hurricane alarms sounded. As he washed the windows to the glass elevator he couldn't help but linger, watching the storm build. It was going to be a big one. The clouds where darkening making the evening sky sink into black even faster than the setting sun could make it. Now all the lights in every open office building where on, the street lights flicker in there dim somehow helpful way. Fredrick thought of his family at home, the kids would be asleep by now, and his wife, Berta, she would be sitting on the couch watching TV waiting for him when he got home. Rain began to spit on the windows, and crackle on the roof top. Umbrellas walked in the streets. And as Fredrick took a view down at them from the twentieth floor, the lights went out, and the city erupted in darkness as the hurricane alarm sounded. Fredrick pushed his cart into a closet, wiped a streak from a window and started his run down the dark flight of stairs with only his flashlight as a companion. 

Hello, friends! 

I know we discussed doing weekly story prompts, and I think we should. I'm taking it upon myself to come up with the first one. Here it is!

     As he took in the view from the twentieth floor, the lights went out all over the city....

     Let's try to turn them in before May ninetieth. Who would like to produce the next one? 

"He tried to remember who had talked him into this"

          Colby stared up at the window four stories above the ground. It's certainly a long ways up, he thought, swallowing hard.
          He reached out and touched the old worn stones. Plenty of handholds at least.
          He hesitated, trying to gather courage when he heard the sound of the sentry making one of his irregular patrols. The fear of being discovered galvanized him into action. Reaching as far as he could, he dug his fingers into a couple of the many crannies and heaved himself upward. He managed to get ten feet above the ground when the sentry rounded the corner.
          Colby froze as the sentry stopped right under him and peered out into the dark. Apparently he had heard something. Colby breathed as lightly as he could, trying hard not to make a sound. Thankfully the sentry didn't think to look up at the wall. He gave a little shrug and soon disappeared around the other corner.
          Colby let out his breath slowly. That sure was close. He shimmied up the rest of the wall.
          Cautiously he peered over the edge of the windowsill. He sighed with relief when no one was in the room. He crawled in and squinted about in the musty darkness. The book lay on Professor Buvim's desk.
          He stared anxiously towards the door as he crept to the desk. If someone should come in now... He forced the thought from his mind.
          Finally at the desk he gazed down at the book. He traced his fingers across the intricate detailing of the cover. He took a deep breath and opened it to the first page.
          Thwump! Something landed on the desk. Colby yelled in shock and fell over backwards.
          Two yellow eyes shone out from the darkness. "And just what do you think you're doing, young man?"
          Colby blinked as candlelight illuminated the room. Halver sat on the desk with a smirk across his feline features. "Tsk, tsk, master Colby. Sneaking about in the dark, being somewhere you shouldn't, looking at something that's private... That's not going to go over well with the professor."
          "Oh please, Halver, don't..." Colby cut off his plea and bit his lip.
          The wildcat raised his eyebrow. "Now, now, master Colby, you know I have an obligation to inform the professor what his students are up to. There's no putting it off." He jumped off the desk and sauntered over to the door. "Come along now. I'm pretty sure Buvim is still up and about."
          Colby glanced at the window. He looked back to Halver, who met his gaze knowingly. "I wouldn't try that if I were you."
          With a sigh, Colby got up, walked over to the door, and followed Halver out. As he followed him up a flight of stairs he berated himself. Now you're really in the soup. Who talked you into this anyway?
          Lydie. It was always Lydie. Picking on him, belittling him, tormenting him. She'd picked on him today, taunting him about his ignorance of his family. Then her tone changed.
          "I heard Professor Buvim say that he remembered your real parents from long ago." She placed her hand on his arm with big earnest eyes. "If you want to find out about them, you'll have to look in his journal. I saw it in his office once. I overheard him say to Instructor Gircan that he had written something about them in there."
          I remembered her sly smile when I asked. "How am I going to get a look at his private journal?"
          And her answer. "Why, sneak in at night of course."
          I grimaced at the memory. She'd said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. When I'd mentioned the danger of being caught, she'd shrugged and as she walked away said over her shoulder. "I'm sure a true Sneaker would figure it out."
          "Here we are." I looked up in surprise as Halver's voice interrupted my thoughts. We'd reached Professor Buvim's apartment.
          Halver scratched at the door. The professor's voice was muffled by the door. "Coming." Halver scratched harder. "I said I'm coming! Have a little patience you mangy animal! Land sakes, you'd think one would give an old man enough time to put on his robe..."
          Professor Buvim's voice trailed off when he opened the door. He raised his eyebrows. "What do we have here?"
          "A trespasser." Halver purred. "This young man scaled the wall and tried to take a peek at your journal. Unfortunately for him, I was just finishing my evening doze."
          "I see." The professor opened the door further and stepped aside. "Why don't you come in Colby? Thank you, Halver, I'll see you later."
          Halver nodded and slipped down the hallway. The professor led the way to a set of cushions around a low table. He sat down, gesturing for Colby to do the same. "Now, why were you trying to get a look at my journal? I assume you have a reasonable excuse other than some of the others daring you to?"
          Colby swallowed hard and stared down at his lap. "Come now, Colby. I'm not going to bite without good reason. What were you doing in my office?"
          "Because I wanted to find out more about my parents!" Colby bit his lip, sure that the professor would object to such an outburst.
          Professor Buvim raised an eyebrow. "And why would you think I had anything about your parents in my journal?"
          I clenched my jaw. As much as I would've liked Lydie to get in trouble, I couldn't tell on her. Not without looking like a tattletale.
          The professor smiled. "Ah, I think I know. Young Lydie was it?"
          When Colby didn't answer, the professor's smile widened. "I see. Why don't I show you what you were wanting to see?"
          Colby watched in amazement as the professor left the room. A few minutes later the professor returned with a small volume. He handed it to Colby. "I believe this holds the information you're looking for."
          "But, this isn't the book on your desk!" Colby exclaimed.
          Professor Buvim winked. "I can't just let my journal lay out in the open for anyone to sneak a peak, now can I?"
          Colby hung his head. The professor squeezed his shoulder. "I'm teasing you. Look at page seventy-three."
          Colby flipped through the pages until he found the entry. What he read took his breath away.

*To be continued. Maybe. :)*