Monday Morning Flash Fiction Challenge, Week 29..... The Friday Post

Good Friday Morning!

I've been mostly offline because my leg has been freakishly weird, making it hard to concentrate, and when I've felt like it, I've been editing my 2010 NaNoWriMo entry, Vlad Tepes, Vigilante Vampire, it's getting close to finished, plus I've been writing a little more of my YA fantasy, Soul Fire. It's all good fun and maybe one day, I'll submit something... when I'm a little better at this whole writing thing...

So, I hope you enjoyed the prompt, again I struggled with it... I actually wrote two stories... and still not sure.

It was definitely a lovely prompt... but it was hard for me again. Why? I don't know.

The Prince and Princess

by: Dottie Taylor

word count: 760

“Tell me the story again, Mommy!” Lyssa bounced up and down, “Please, tell the story!”

Monica watched her young daughter with the riotous golden curls, growing amusement of her face. “Okay, one more time, then bed.”

“Yay!” Lyssa cried as she leaped onto the bed, grabbing her favorite doll, nestling into the blankets.

“Are you all ready? Teeth brushed?” Monica grinned.

“And face washed, Mama!” Lyssa crowed, delight in her eyes.

“Okay, then..... Once upon a time in a land far away....” Monica started. Lyssa's blue eyes glowed with anticipation, she loved the story of the Faery Prince and Princess.

“there lived a Faery Princess....” Lyssa finished the first line in her sweet child's voice.

“Yes, there lived a Faery Princess,” Monica laughed, “and she fell madly in love with a golden Prince from the clan across the valley. Each day, Prince Nerian, who was himself a very powerful Prince, would sneak away from his clan to meet his lovely Princess beneath the waiting arms of a wise old oak tree.”

“Get to the part about the witch, Mommy!” Lyssa scrunched her eyes, “she's so scary!”

“Shhhh...” Monica quieted. “The witch will be where she's supposed to be. Do you want to hear the rest?” Lyssa grew silent, eyes wide, her doll clutched tightly to her chest. Monica waited a heartbeat and continued.

“Waiting at the old oak was Princess Layla, hiding between the branches, because if her father, the King of all the Faeries, found her slipping away to meet the strange Prince, there would be a savage war, and the Princess, as much as she loved her Prince, didn't want a bloody battle, one where her love might not survive.”

Lyssa snuggled down into the down of her blankets, eyes growing heavy. She yawned, “Go on Mommy, I'm not even tired yet...” and she yawned again.

Monica smiled and brushed her fingers across her daughter's forehead as the soft even breathes of the nearly sleeping child greeted her ears. She pushed the curls behind her daughter's ears to reveal the pointed tips just starting to bud.

Monica whispered, just loud enough for Lyssa to hear the last words of the story for this evening. “But on this day a wicked witch lay waiting in the branches, spying on the two young lovers. She watched as they came together, kissing in the dark green leafs of the branches, their bodies hidden, as they swore their love for one another. She was an ugly old thing with a big hairy wart on her nose,” Monica gently tweaked Lyssa's nose, “and then she burst out of the branches, cackling wildly. Layla and Nerian broke apart, knowing their secret was no longer safe. What would they do now?”

Lyssa peeked open one blue eye and whispered, “She didn't get em, did she Mommy?”

“Why don't we finish tomorrow and you'll find out?” Monica covered her tiny body with the fleecy blankets, making sure to tuck Pigley in with her.

“Okay... night... Mommy.” Lyssa sighed, and her dreams carried her away. Monica sat watching the sleeping child, so beautiful, so bright, so full of everything that was good in life.

“Sleep sweetly, love you.” Monica breathed, leaning down to lightly kiss her daughter's velveteen cheek as her husband entered the room.

“What was it tonight?” He pressed against her softening body, wrapping his strong arms around her middle making Monica's heart stutter, catching her breath. She would never tire of this one man. “Trolls, dragons, magic?” He laughed softly into her ear.

“Our story, it's always her favorite.” She whispered as she smiled, leaning back into his hardening body. As if she weighed no more than a thimble, he lifted her and carried them back to their own bed. He would always need this one woman, there would never be any others.

“Lets make more babies.” He growled into her ear, his lips feathered along her neck, moving lower to find her ruby rosettes, making her whimper with need.

“Make love to me my Prince.” Monica sighed, as desire blossomed through her body, making her senseless, forever to love her handsome golden Prince.

Lyssa seldom stayed awake passed the part with the witch, but she was proof of the happy ending. One day Monica Layla Clairen, Princess of All the Faeries, would have to finish the story, but not tonight. Tonight she had to live more of it.
 

Bunnies, cotton candy, sweetness.... oh my!  LOL

I hope you enjoyed the image!! Next week, I'm going to try to something to do with Ireland or St. Pat's Day. If you have an image in mind, please email me!!


And join us on Monday for another...

**** Update to Post****

Since I had two flashes for this one prompt, I decided to post them both. Still can't decide if I like either one....

The Life Tree

by: Dottie Taylor

word count: 720

Serena didn't know how long she'd been sheltered by the tree. It was a massive oak, strong and proud, in the Summer months, it's palm-sized green leafs caressed it's veins along her flesh, whispered lovingly in her ear. She was happy, loved, safe. Her goldenrod eyes reflecting the sun's brilliant rays.

In the Winter months, she would become encased within the tree, protected from by it's mighty bark, sustained by the ebb and flow of it's fluids. Green veins ran from the tips of her fingers to the ends of her toes. Her frosted eyes reflecting the icy blueness of the frozen lake.

But, Serena grew restless, jealous of those who came to enjoy her tree. She longed to feel the arms of a lover she could only watch, the touch of soft lips instead of the clinging leafs, the warmth of another's flesh instead of the brush of harsh bark. She begged for the tree to release her, but the tree only held her tighter, afraid once she left it's sheltering branches, she would never return.

Then, the tree became ill, fevered with poison, it's bark split open, bleeding it's sickly sap. Seeing her chance, Serena stepped away from the tree. Everything had changed so much since her time within the tree. The soil thinner, tiny plants clung to it weakly. The air stank from the scent of too much humanity. When she listened, the Earth groaned under it's weight, fat and bloated. Serena's heart broke, weeping sticky green tears, rushing from one place to another, urging life as death tried to take hold.

Through it was the time of Summer, her tree started to whither, it's leaves fell to the forest floor, it closed in on itself. It missed Serena, and without her life, it didn't have the will to fight.

Serena felt weaker, too, her body burned, her veins felt close to bursting. Suddenly, she needed her tree, needed to find the safety of it's comfort. She rushed back to her tree, pounded on it's fragile bark, begged for entrance.

But her tree could no longer hear her pleads. It was so close to death, it's spirit wavered. She sat at it's roots, crying her green tears, when her tree moaned. She jumped to her feet, wrapping her arms around the tree, “I've come home!” She pleaded, “please let me in.”

The old tree heaved a tired sigh, “Serena?” It warbled out, “Serena, you've been gone so long.”

“I know,” she cried, “and you're dying.” She cried harder, she'd been greedy, unthinking, and look where it had bought her. “Please, just open your arms, wrap me in your bark.” She pounded her fist against the old tree.

“I don't know if I have the strength,” it called, “and if I die, you'll die with me.”

“I'll die with out you,” she wept, “the Earth is slowly dying, my brothers and sisters are killing it.”

With a mighty groan, the tree opened itself, ever so slightly, but just enough that Serena could find her way back inside, breathing new life with every touch. She closed her eyes, and drifted into sleep, it would be one hundred years before she opened her eyes again.

***

“Tree,” she called stretching her arms into the branches, her toes into roots, “are we better?” And she peered around. No longer could she feel the crush of humanity, and all around her, there were saplings, proud and strong, reaching for the heavens. Her brothers and sisters must have killed themselves, but she could feel no sorrow with their loss.

“Serena,” her tree called back, “we're fine, and look, younglings surround us.” It's leafs shook with laughter, it's branches waved to the saplings, and the saplings sang in the breeze.

Serena smiled and closed her eyes, in another hundred years her children would be nearly fully grown, tall and proud, and she wanted nothing more. As sleep claimed her, her tree sighed happily, never again would either be alone and forever they would both live, if not in this life, then in the lives of their children and their children's children. Each carried a piece of them, each carried love. Serena and her tree could want for nothing more.



See, I just don't know, maybe I need those images with death and destruction???



Have a great weekend!

Ciao!