Inktober!

Happy Halloween, friends!

I planned on posting a Halloween-esque short story today, but I wasn’t comfortable with releasing it into the world just yet. I hope you’ll forgive me. So, instead, I decided to gather all my Inktober stories in one place!

This year, I participated in something called Inktober: Writer Edition. For those of you who don’t know, Inktober is where artists create drawings every day based on prompts. It’s a creativity challenge. Well, my friend Hannah Robinson created Inktober: Writer Edition for the writers who wanted to participate in Inktober using the same prompts!

The stories were supposed to be 50 words. That is an admirable goal. However, I am long-winded (which probably isn’t a surprise to many of you), so many of the stories are over 50 words. My apologies.

Prompt Answers

Here are all the entries I wrote. I went back and added a few that I missed during the days I was too busy. Sometimes I include notes, which are indicated by a dash ( — ).

Prompt 1: Ring

Her foot tapped an anxious rhythm beneath her desk. He hadn’t arrived yet. He was always here by now. Ever since he’d picked the empty seat next to her in English that first class, she’d become hyper attuned to his very movements. He liked to run a hand through his hair, messing up the already-unruly curls. He took notes by hand instead of on his laptop, and his handwriting was chaotic, almost unreadable. Sometimes he would glance at her during class when Professor Harris said something funny and smile as though they were sharing a private joke.

Maybe today she’d actually talk to him.

The door opened. There he was, moving with lanky grace, backpack slung over his shoulder. She drank in the rich chocolate of his hair, the pale snow of his skin, the vibrant green of his eyes.

He saw her watching and smiled, then sat down. Out came his notebook and pen. Her eyes caught on his left hand. A golden band glittered on his ring finger.

Prompt 2: Mindless

8:24. Twenty minutes later than she usually left. Maddie snatched her purse, grabbed her owl tumbler filled with fresh coffee, and threw the door open. Traffic was going to be a nightmare, and she had a meeting with her boss in twenty minutes. He would be so angry if she was late again. He was probably going to chew her out anyway, but arriving on time would have at least spared her some of the lecture.

The door slammed shut behind her, and she crossed the porch in a few quick steps, her heels clicking on concrete. Her mind on the upcoming meeting, she stuck her hand in her purse. Her wallet, her phone, a pack of tissues, some lipstick. Nothing metallic.

Her throat clamped tight, and she twisted around and hurried back to the door, heels going click click click, then jerked on the door handle. Locked. And her keys were sitting on the kitchen table. 

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