Writing Prompts Week 27: A Story Featuring A Song

Spinning, laughing, dancing
To her favourite song
A little girl with nothing wrong
Is all alone

She was like a spirit, the way she glided across the ground, her dress fanning around her like blooming flowers as she twirled. The field grass waved alongside her, giving rhythm to her steps. From somewhere, music played, carried on the wind.

Crooked little smile
On her face
Tells a tale of grace
That’s all her own

Humans didn’t come here. Only fairies and spirits. They watched her move with entranced eyes. She came here often, and they loved her. Sometimes one would try to join her, pull her into their own dance, but she payed them little mind as she made her own steps, humming her own tune.

Eyes wide open, always hoping
For the sun
And she’ll sing her song to anyone
That comes along

She always vanished with the sunrise, returning home and leaving her audience behind. They were left with the final notes of the music lingering in their ears. What magic did she possess to entrance the fae so well? None of them knew.


Writing Prompts Week 26: A Story About Nostalgia

For some reason, the smell of fresh bread reminds me of when I was small. Particularly when I would play in the garden with my sister. I’m not sure why, but it makes me miss those simple days.

We had grand adventures together in the woods, fighting off imaginary beasts and climbing mountains that were actually trees.

And I remember sneaking sweet peas while helping my father with his vegetable garden. He was always the green thumb in the family.

It also reminds me sometimes of the day we got our first dog. A golden retriever, with thick, fluffy fur and big brown eyes. She was a good dog, always looking after us.

My apartment doesn’t allow pets.

I miss home. I should stop making bread all the time.