Rainy Day's Books, Video Games and Other Writings


flash fiction challenge

If We Were Having Coffee: A Week of Writing Fiction

If We Were Having Coffee 01

Hello everyone! I hope you’ve been having a wonderful week and an even better weekend. I’m sorry I didn’t do a coffee post last weekend. I did the Great Strides walk with my best friend last weekend, but I also just didn’t have too much to talk about. But that’s okay, because I have more things this week for you to make up for it.

If we were having coffee, I’d tell you that the Great Strides walk I went on last Saturday was quite a bit of fun. It’s the second time I’ve done this walk with my best friend, and I’m glad I could make it. I was a little worried at first because the weather was calling for rain, but luckily it didn’t rain at all when we were there so we were good. I really enjoyed doing it though because it really got me walking, which is something I don’t do as often as I need to. But I managed to do okay, considering it was a 3 mile trek and I haven’t walked like this since I’ve been away from work. I also managed to talk to one of Erin’s dear friends while doing this walk because Erin and her husband were busy managing their son. He walked with me the whole time and we just talked about all sorts of stuff. It was just nice having the company, having someone there to keep you going until you completed the 3 miles.

Last weekend was also Mother’s Day too so I spent my Friday cleaning the house for my Mom while she was away at work. I couldn’t think of anything in particular to get her (which quite frankly, wouldn’t have been enough anyway, because my Mom has done so much for me and my sister), but I figured having her come home to an already clean house would be a nice gesture. It meant she would have one less thing to do, and it would allow her to just spend the weekend relaxing if she wanted to. I also bought her dinner Saturday night too at our favorite Mexican restaurant, and we rented two movies: Patriot’s Day and Star Wars: Rogue One. Originally we were going to eat dinner then go see a movie, but none of the movies in the theatres that day were anything either of us wanted to see. So we just figured renting some movies for at home would be better. And it was, because both the films we rented were great.

Star Wars Rogue One Darth Vader

What I enjoyed about Patriot’s Day was how true it stuck to the real events that transpired with regards to the Boston Marathon bombing. I also liked it because it felt real personal. Besides having family members who lived in Boston around the time it happened, I felt like it was just a great film showcasing the real life of those who the bombing really affected. Especially near the end when they showed interview clips from some of the survivors and the police officers who handled the case. What I enjoyed about Star Wars: Rogue One was the characters, and how the storyline connected with the rest of the Star Wars series. Though the ending caught me completely off guard and mad me sad, I felt like it was a good side film that could hint at what could come in the rest of the series.

If we were having coffee, I’d tell you I’ve gotten a lot of writing done this week. I made the decision to write a post about journaling, because it’s something I’ve been doing since middle school. It’s also something I think every writer should do so I wanted to talk about how keeping a journal has benefited my life. I also have this story I’ve been working on since middle school too that I hope to one day get published into a book so I was working on that one day during the week. I’m planning on working on it some more once I get the chance because it’s a project I seriously want to complete. I’ve also completed another Flash Fiction Challenge, which I also think has some serious potential of becoming a novel. It’s a story I started working on that I believe is going to take a while to complete, but once it’s done could be a really good piece. I don’t know yet necessarily if that’s something I’m really going to do with it, but I’m just going to wait and see how far I can get with it at least before I make that call. I’m also going to be doing another guest writer post for my friend Lesley. So look out for that in the next couple weeks whenever it comes out.

Gardenscapes App Game

I’ve also been playing a couple of App games on my phone. In particular, I’ve been playing a game called Gardenscapes, which is a matching level game that allows you to build the outside garden of your dreams. It’s a game I stumbled upon by accident while on Facebook, and I haven’t been able to stop playing it since. Part of it is because it’s such a cute game, and I like the look and feel of it when I play. There’s also just enough of a challenge that makes me come back to it again and again, even when I run out of lives. I don’t know how else to explain it just yet, but I’m considering doing a review of it in the near future. I know I’ve definitely been playing it enough that I could. Plus, I haven’t done any video game reviews in a really long time.  I don’t know, I guess I’ll just wait and see.

I also recently started and finished this book called The Shotgun Arcana this week. It’s a book that’s equal parts western, fantasy, and historical. But it was a really enjoyable book, so be sure to see my book review for it this upcoming week.

Next weekend, you probably won’t be seeing one of these posts because my sister is coming home this Memorial Day weekend, and her boyfriend will be coming too. So we’ll be spending some time together and I’ll get to meet her boyfriend for the first time. But either way, that’s really all I have to say for now. How’ve you all been doing? Did you all have a wonderful week too?

Our Only Hope (Flash Fiction Challenge: The Subgenre Smash-and-Grab)

Flash Fiction Challenge Picture Sword

So for this week’s Flash Fiction Challenge, Chuck Wendig gave a list of 20 subgenres to choose from. Out of the list, you are to choose two of these subgenres and write a short story that mashes up the two subgenres you chose.

So I used a random number generator to pick which two subgenres I’d write about. The number generator gave me sword & sorcery and biopunk. So for this short story, I’ve begun to weave a tale about a young thirteen year-old girl named Liza Fitzgerald born into a dystopian world who goes on a quest to find the missing sword Alexandra, which is supposed to be a sword that can be used to both heal and destroy the world of Terra.

Oh, and just to let you know, this is only the beginning of the story. I haven’t come anywhere close to finishing this piece because I believe what I’ve written has the potential to become a novel I write in the near future.

Liza’s Journal Entry #1: Going on an Adventure

It’s the year 2032, and our country is at the brink of collapse. Most if not all of us are poor, due to lack of health care, and having to constantly work to put what little food is left on the table. The government is controlled by the rich and wealthy, who use all their power and wealth to help themselves, resulting in the eventual collapse of the middle class.

 Our country Terra is constantly at war. Our evil tyrant in charge Jafar sends out military troops over to other countries to kidnap and steal their people to put them to work as indentured slaves.

Every day, Terra’s populace increases, but there’s still not a lot of food and places for these people to go, due to the wealth’s need to own everything, yet not feed the population they have under control. So these people who’ve been taken away from their homelands live on the streets, which are nowhere near safe for anyone to live.

 Living on the streets is dangerous because people are becoming desperate, stealing from each other in the hopes of being able to make a little extra money. Some have even gone so far as to kill, hoping they can make some money by selling the body parts of their victims.

 Even the news and media, who used to be on our side, have completely turned against us. Every day, the media broadcasts live video of our inner city, boasting about how far Terra has come in advancements of technology. Trying to tell us how great our leaders are, that we should be thankful for living in Terra. And because our media has been paid for by our wealthy leaders, they then make bold promises that they’ll lead us out of war, and that those of us who’ve remained loyal to them will be paid for it when the time has come.

 We’ve come such a long way in technology, yet we can’t even feed our own people and make sure everyone is safe? Yes, that definitely makes perfect sense.

 But despite these terrible conditions, we have one last hope that everything will be alright. In the news many years ago before they’d been paid off, there was talk about this magical sword called Alexandra that would bring this horrible tyranny to an end. Alexandra was created by one of our mad scientists who goes by the name Rafiki in a genetic lab. Word has it that this sword has both the power to heal and destroy, making it an item our tyrant leader really wants to get his greedy hands on.

 Luckily for us though, nobody knows where Rafiki has put it. Because on the day the news mentioned Alexandra to the world, Rafiki and the sword vanished, and haven’t been seen ever since. But ever since that day, Jafar has vainly sent his men in search of this sword only for them to return empty handed.

 What Jafar doesn’t know is that he’s not the only one looking for Alexandra. When word got around that there might be a way to end this tyranny, the leaders of our city got together to discuss the best way to search for this sword without Jafar knowing about it. Upon reflection, our leaders made the decision to send some of Terra’s children to go in search of the sword upon their thirteenth birthday so that Jafar wouldn’t be suspicious of our city’s inhabitants. But like Jafar, the children who’ve gone before me have returned empty handed.

 Hello, my name is Liza Fitzgerald, one of the city’s children. Today, I’ve turned thirteen years-old, and have volunteered myself to go on this journey to find the missing sword. I know the trip will be difficult, that there’s a risk of me not coming back, but I’m not at all afraid.

 Ever since I heard about Alexandra and the trip children here take in search of it, I knew this was my destiny. I know I might never find it, since obviously none of the other kids here have, but I have faith that everything will be okay. For I am Liza Fitzgerald, and I’m not at all afraid.

With a loud thud, I closed my journal and stowed it away in my black backpack, which is within arm’s reach of the bottom bunk of the bed I slept on.

It’s currently early morning here, with many more hours left to go before I leave this crammed city to go in search of the sword.

Wow, I can’t believe it, I think to myself. I’m finally thirteen. I’ll finally get the chance to leave this horrible place for a little bit. Get to explore, maybe even see what some of the other cities look like. I know anything is better than my life here anyway, living here so close together it’s almost hard to breathe.

 I spend the next couple hours between staring at the one window that looks to the outside world, and looking at the bunk bed ceiling above my head. I try to ignore the smell of decay and death surrounding me as most of my roommates are either sick or haven’t taken baths in weeks. Not too surprising though, considering our water rarely works and Jafar and his wealthy buffoons don’t care about whether we have good hygiene. As long as we can work all day, he could care less if we are physically or mentally stable.

Looking outside the window, all I can see is a downpour of rain washing along the foggy streets. Also not very surprising because it rains here in Terra every day ever since Jafar took over. We rarely get any ray of sunshine. When we do, it’s always when we least expect it or it comes right before another downpour of rain and storms takes over. But as I take this opportunity to look outside, the rain slowly clears away to reveal a ray of sunshine peaking its head around the corner.

As the sun slowly lifts above the clouds, I get myself changed and ready for this journey. I pack what few belongings I own, including the staff that was given to me by my mother to channel my magical abilities.

You see, some of the inhabitants here in Terra have magical abilities, powers they can use to their advantage whenever it suits them. I’m one of those people, born by two parents who use their powers as their second set of armor before going out into the world. Being magic wielders, we are both respected and feared by those around us. But we are also the most protected because we are much harder to kill or injure, even when facing the most dangerous of foes, making us perfect targets for Jafar’s evil purposes.

Which is another good reason for me to leave. I don’t want to be a pawn for whatever else he might have in store for Terra. I’d rather die out there than continue to stay here and be used in whatever way Jafar sees fit. So I better leave now while I have the chance. Before it’s too late.

With my backpack full to the brim and staff in tow, I leave the cramped bedroom, trying the best I can not to wake up my comrades. I tiptoe from the hallway into the kitchen, which is in total darkness.

Then all of a sudden, the blinding kitchen light is turned on, and I hear a loud chorus of “surprise!” shouted by all of my loved ones.

Great. It looks like they’ve thrown me a surprise party.




Flash Fiction Challenge: It Was All Just a Dream

For Chuck’s Flash Fiction Challenge, the writer is challenged to write about something that scares them. While I have a couple fears that could easily be fun to write about, I’ve decided on one I know really is a part of my character: not being able to protect those I love from harm. 

It was midnight once again when I found myself still struggling to go to sleep. I thought I’d be able to go to bed now, but my eyes refused to close. I know I’m tired and need this sleep so I can get up for work in the morning, but I just can’t seem to close my eyes. No matter what I do, my body refuses to rest. I feel hyper, like I’ve taken a sip from an energy drink I never bought. Almost as if I could stay awake for the rest of the night. 

Finally after what seemed like many hours later, I felt my eyelids droop. I could hear the sounds of my restful breathing as I inhaled and exhaled the air around me. It was peaceful and comfortable in my bed to the point where I could hear my mother snore from her room downstairs. 

I drifted into a dreamless sleep for the next hour. Then all of a sudden, I was having a nightmare. In this horrible nightmare, those I love were being harmed in some way or another. And there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it. I felt helpless as I found out my best friend was dead and watched my mom and sister being hurt right before my eyes. I tried reaching out to my loves ones in this dark nightmare, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. 

Then all of a sudden, I’m lurched awake from these terrible visions. I wake up, tears streaming down my face with no recollection of what just occurred. All I know is that my dreams were of the people I love being taken away from me, but can’t remember anything other than feeling completely helpless and hopeless. I feel like I’m being punched in the gut, yet can’t find the cause of this type of violence against me. 

It takes quite awhile for me to realize what I just saw in my sleep was all just a dream because it all felt so real. So real, like it actually happened. 

So real that even when I’ve finally calmed myself enough to go back to sleep, the tears are still streaming down my face with no sign of stopping. Because while it was all just a dream, it’s something I truly feel could happen and it scares me. 

If We Were Having Coffee: What A Busy Week


Hello everyone. How are you today? Hope you’re doing well. Since we’ve entered the month of October, I’ve decided with my coffee posts to do images of coffees that are Halloween related in some way or another. As a way for me to get into the Halloween spirit so to speak on my blog. Halloween is my favorite holiday so I want to celebrate it in whatever way I can here.

If we were having coffee, I’d tell you this week has been a busy week at work. I’m not going to get into any of the specifics, but it’s been pretty stressful. Things out of my control happened and I felt like I walked into bad news every day I came in. Some of the things that happened have me feeling ashamed and frustrated that they happened, but are being handled the best way they can.

I’m sorry I can’t get really get into more detail other than that. I can tell you it’s not necessarily something me or my coworkers have done. It’s something that’s happened at my college that has everyone around campus talking, wondering what’s going to be done about it. It’s stuff out of our control, things we couldn’t predict happening. But nonetheless, it happened and we are doing the best we can to move on from it.

If we were having coffee, I’d also tell you I’m still working on the fifth chapter for the Creators Academy course I’m taking. I’m not sure what I want to do it on just yet. I’m thinking of possible topics, but just haven’t come up with one yet. I know my last one was about Harry Potter so I’m considering doing something about it again, like maybe talking about the Harry Potter podcast I’ve been enjoying or something. But haven’t exactly decided if that’s what I really want to do or not. Until then, I’ll keep looking and see what happens. I’ve also found out I’ll be given another mentor again. Don’t know why I keep getting different mentors, but I’m still looking forward to this whole process and am excited to see what I’ll be writing next on this site.

Speaking of writing, I’ve found a Flash Fiction Challenge I’m really looking forward to doing. I think I know what I’m going to write about, just not exactly sure how I want to go about doing it yet. Considering its more of a nonfiction post, I’m still trying to think of how to tell this personal experience of mine. It’s something I want to talk about, but not sure how others will feel about it so I’m still trying to figure that out before I write it. But I am planning on doing this challenge in the near future even if it ends up being finished later. Would rather write this one accurately and late than finish it on time and it be completely false. So I plan on working on that sometime in the foreseeable future. Fingers crossed it’ll turn out the way I want it and others will enjoy it too.

If we were having coffee, I’d tell you I’ve finished reading When She Woke, with the review posted on my blog for all of you to enjoy. I enjoyed it, but there are some things with it I have a problem with. I’ve also just started reading this book called The Imperfectionists yesterday. So far, it seems like an interesting read, something I’d enjoy. But will just have to wait and see once I’ve finished.

I’ve also started watching Criminal Minds on Netflix. I’ve been wanting to binge watch it for the longest time now and figured since I’ve been seeing some of the episodes on TV, I might as well watch it from the beginning.


So far, I’m enjoying it, like I always do. I know I’ll probably eventually get tired of watching it, but right now it’s very enjoyable to me.

Right now, that’s been it for me. I haven’t been up to much else besides work and whenever I have free time, I read, write or do something else. Hope your week has been good and can’t wait to hear all about it.

Flash Fiction Challenge: The Power of Words

Flash Ficiton Challenge the Power of Words Image

Inspired by Chuck Wendig’s blog post on Terrible Minds, I’ve decided to write a fictional story based on the third writing seed mentioned.

Hello. My name is Kayla. I am a really young girl, elementary school age to be exact. Today has been a really strange day, but in the most exciting way possible. I don’t know how to explain it other than for the first time in my life, I feel hopeful. I believe that anything is possible, that miracles do happen.

It all started when I left school. My family, though very poor, is rich in all of the ways that matter. Even though we don’t have much, my family believes in the value of education. Of reading and learning as much as we can. Since I was born, I was raised on the foundation of a love of literature. My family had me reading the most sophisticated of children’s literature and even went so far as to get me a library card so as to continue expanding my reading knowledge.

Loving literature as much as I did, Mom knew to bring me to the library every day. Otherwise, my mind was a growing black hole filled with curious questions about the world outside of my human perspective. Mom knew she couldn’t maintain my growing curiosity so she gave in to my book needs, making sure I get some reading material each day. Once at home, I immediately set out to read the new books I obtained.

But reading wasn’t my only interest. As much reading as I did, I also discovered the power of words. I discovered my love in writing around the same time I found my love in literature. When I’m not reading books from the library, I’m writing short stories of my own, opening my imagination to the possibilities literature offers. That’s part of the reason I’m here too. Not only to get some more books, but the library here also offers young children who are passionate about the written word journals to express their thoughts and feelings. They are free, available at the front desk in a nice display case that only the librarians have access to.

I’ve been interested in getting one for a long time now. I usually write the stories I’ve created in a notebook, but I also want to write about myself too. Not in a notebook like the one I keep all of my stories, but something more durable, something I can keep more private to myself. But my family wasn’t too keen on the idea at first. Not because they don’t support my growing mind and imagination, but because we can’t afford a whole lot right now as it is. That was before they realized the library had journals for kids and anyone who wanted one, that they realized they wouldn’t have to pay to buy me one with the small amount of money we have for food, the clothing on our backs, and our home.

We weren’t always poor like we are now. It didn’t start until a year after I was born. Dad had gotten into a car accident that left him paralyzed to the point where he needed to get new medication almost every week, causing our expenses to build up until we had very little money left. It didn’t help Dad would have to travel in order to visit some of his doctors because none of the doctors close to here knew what to do, causing us to spend even more money when we couldn’t afford to. Because of these expenses, Mother was always working, supporting both us at home, trying to make as much money as she could. Since Mom was always working, I had to fend for myself, had to learn how to cook food, clean and took care of Dad as best I could. But I wasn’t left just to fend for myself. Mom had taught me to clean and cook as soon as I could walk and talk so I could help Dad if he needed anything. So I grew up early on, realizing how unfair life could be to the best of people. I accepted this philosophy early in life because of my own experiences and seeing how hard Mom worked all for naught. I just wished there was something I could do to help ease Dad and Mom’s pain, make life easier for all of us here.

What I didn’t realize was how soon that wish would come true. It started when I got to the library. Mom and I walked together through the double swinging doors of the library into this big open space filled to the brim with books everywhere. I looked around in awe like I always did every time I came to the library. I’m never going to get used to how big this library is, probably the biggest library I’ll ever see in my life. Shelves upon shelves of books were stacked on each shelf with wooden ladders on display for visitors to climb to access more books.

I separated from Mom to look at the books on the shelves before going to inquire about getting a journal. Yes, I was excited about getting a new journal, but also wanted to look at more books to read first. So I weaved in between shelves, looking at all of the different books my hands glided across. I headed directly towards the children’s section where all of the books I read could be found. But as I touched one of the books on the shelves on the way there, my hand accidentally plucked a leather bound brown book off the shelf, which resulted on me tripping and falling flat on my face, the book on the ground inches from my feet.

Disoriented from the fall, I got up to find the source of my clumsy falter. The leather bound book lay right beside my feet where I could see it from the corner of my eye. The brown cover looked very wear and tear, as if it survived many storms to make it here. It looked smaller than the notebook that carried most of my writings at home, but like the size of the journals the librarians kept at the front desk. Intrigued by this leather bound book on the floor, I quickly picked it up and observed its empty pages. Lines upon lines were found on each of the pages of the book like the type you normally find in a journal. Despite its small size, this book felt heavy as if all of the troubles in the world could be found within its pages.

Upon picking up this book, I was immediately interested in it. I could tell from what I’d seen of it so far that it is in fact a journal. But why was this journal so old looking and not with the other journals at the front desk? And why was it left here on this shelf with these other books?

No longer interested in getting any more books from the library, I held onto this book and went to the front desk to check it out before Mom and I headed home.

Later tonight, I inspected the book in my room. I had to make dinner as soon as we got home because my stomach growled and Dad also wanted something to eat. Just made some hot dogs with macaroni & cheese, something quick and easy so I could then go in my room and better inspect my new journal.

Once dinner was eaten and dishes done, I went into my room, closing the door slowly behind me, the leather bound book in my hands. Excited, I laid across my bed, taking a pen off of the small bookshelf I had in my room to begin writing in my new journal.

Today, I wrote, I just acquired this new journal. I found it on a bookshelf at the local library I go to, of all places. It literally fell onto my lap as I was going to look at some of the children’s books I read.

Hello, by the way. My name is Kayla. I live in this little town where most of the people who live here can barely afford the food on the table and the clothes on their back. We’ve lived here since right after I was born. My father got into a car accident when I was a year old, which paralyzed him to the point where we need to get him new medication almost every week and make expensive travels to get him to the right doctors who can help him.

The words flooded out of me like a river. It felt good to write about myself, to share my personal story somewhere so private only I was the only one able to see it. To share my feelings and fears without having someone judge me for it. The whole experience felt magical, like I was telling another person’s story even though I was the one who lived through it all. It felt very natural, almost like I was confiding in a friend. A friend I couldn’t personally speak to, but someone I felt comfortable being around.

Despite how thankful I should be about what I do have now, I continued to write, I do wish things had turned out differently. What I mean is that I wish Dad wasn’t paralyzed, that he could be himself and our family could live in peace. Dad hasn’t been himself since the accident. He’s more prone to frustration and anger because he feels helpless that he can’t do anything like he used to. He feels guilty that Mother has to do everything to make sure we stay afloat and that we don’t run out of money and that I have to be the one to take care of everything at home. He wants to help, but can’t and feels betrayed by his own body. I want to help him. I want to take away his pain and stop him from feeling this type of pain anymore. I love Mom and Dad and want them both to be happy.

As I finish writing this next paragraph, I hear this light bell-like sound tingling through the air. Then as quickly as the sound comes, its gone. As I put my pen down, I hear a happy yell coming from our small living room.

I leave my room to investigate, cautiously wondering what’s going on in our house. And what I see in our living room catches me completely off guard. My Dad is off the couch, completely walking around in the living room without the use of his cane. He looks completely at ease, as if each and every one of his leg muscles aren’t hurting him anymore. And he’s smiling. He’s actually smiling, like a child taking his big step for the first time.

Mom watches as Dad walks around the living room, her mouth open in awe.

“Dad?” I question as I continue to watch him from where I stand upon entering the living room as he walks around without the use of his cane. He looks as if he doesn’t have a care in the world, as if he’s the happiest he’s ever been since I was born.

“Honey,” Dad addresses to both of us as he turns first to look at Mom then at me. “Look, I can walk again! I can walk again!”

He can’t seem to stop smiling, the grin on his face getting wider and wider. We all laugh, happy to see him doing so well.

But at the same time, I’m still in shock.

How’d this happen? I think to myself. Just this morning, he was sitting on the couch, reading a magazine unable to get up without his cane. Now, he can move again, as if he’s not in any pain. So what happened? What changed between this morning and now?

I watch as my Mom and Dad are laughing, giggling in excitement at Dad’s miraculous recovery. Not to say I’m not excited too. I definitely am. But I also want to know what’s up too. So I go in my room and turn to the page in my journal where I began to write all of my thoughts down. Only to discover everything I’d written just a few short minutes ago has been completely erased from existence.     

Flash Fiction Challenge: Through a Silent River Poem

Silent Moment Image

For the next flash fiction challenge I’ve decided to complete, I’m doing Chuck Wendig’s Inspiration of the Random Image. In this challenge, you choose a random image from here that inspires you and write about it. My piece for this one I’ve decided to call “Through a Silent River,” and it’s a poem I’ve decided to write about the image I’ve attached to this post.

Through a silent river,

There is one man traveling alone.


He has no idea where he is going,

Or no idea where he has been.

He just knows he needs to get to his next destination.


It is night time,

The stars are out, burning bright.


As he travels along the silent river,

Two birds flock to his bamboo raft.


He stares at them,

Then out at the river, marveling in all its beauty.


He lights a lantern once he notices the dark,

In the hopes of bringing to light this marvelous beauty around him.


But the more he stares out into the night,

The more transfixed he becomes at the sight surrounding him.


At the silent river he’s currently traveling,

At the trees whose depths he’s yet to explore,

And at the steep mountains whose hills he’s yet to climb.


All three are beautiful things he appreciates

As a curious traveler of the world.


And as the night gets darker,

He takes in the beautiful sights around him one last time.


At the silent river he’s currently traveling,

At the trees whose depths he’s yet to explore,

And at the steep mountains whose hills he’s yet to climb.


Crouches down and goes to sleep,

Basking in the beauty and the wonders he’s yet to explore,

And rests his travel weary eyes until the morning sun wakes him for his next journey.

Flash Fiction Challenge: Dragons

Red Firey Dragon

Via Chuck Wendig’s blog Terrible Minds, I’ve once again decided to do another flash fiction challenge. This time, the writing challenge is simple: the story I write must include a dragon.

So for this writing challenge, since April is National Poetry Month, I’ve decided to write a poem about dragons. Thank you for taking a look at this post and I hope you enjoy my poem!


Creatures of fire and brimstone,

Destroying the earth with their mighty talons

And breath that smells like death.


Red or blue,

Black or gold.

These creatures of various colors inspire nothing but fear.


Myths and legends,

Are told outside of campfires at night

About mysterious creatures who fly in the sky.


Protectors and defenders

Of hidden treasures

Hold secrets rarely worth keeping.


Shiny and sleek,

These creatures could very easily

Tear you apart with one mighty swipe.


With the strength of many men,

Dragons are some of the deadliest

Foes in the world.


Mysterious in their beauty,

These creatures of fire and brimstone

Eat other animals to survive.


Dragons are very dangerous,

So if you ever happen upon one,




Terrible Minds Flash Fiction Challenge: Seven Deadly Sins

Inspired by Chuck Wendig’s blog post on Terrible Minds, I’m going to write a fictional story about a man named Jack who embodies all seven of the deadly sins. I’ve never done one of these flash fiction challenges before so I’m really interested to see how this goes.


Hello, my name is Jack. And I am going to hell.

I know everyone has heard of the seven deadly sins: lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy and pride. They are the sins that determine ones place in the deadly underground known as hell.

Unfortunately, I’ve been blessed with the unlucky curse to embody all seven.

Lust whispers in my ear at night whenever I get into bed, asking me if I’m really going to go another night without a pretty woman in my bed. I try the best I can to ignore this voice, but it never goes away. So at night, I’m out, enjoying the nightlife and looking for another woman to add to my notch belt.

Gluttony slaps me in the face every time I eat. It asks if I’m really done eating that last plate. Whispers, are you sure you don’t want any more? like a lost lover. So I always go back for more until I’m sick with disgust at what all I’ve just eaten. But I still go back anyway, knowing I’m going to regret it later.

Greed can be found in all of my latest purchases. I shop like a woman at the mall, buying all of the latest and greatest gadgets for men. Even things I don’t need I purchase, knowing I’m not going to use them but feeling the need to have them anyway. I know I don’t need the money anyway because I make plenty of it.

Sloth follows me around like a lost puppy every time I go into work. I hate my job, so I make myself look busy around my coworkers. But once their backs are turned, I go back to being unproductive. I spend my work hours doing nothing but stare at my computer screen, wishing the day was already over so I could continue with this unproductivity back in my lonely apartment. I hate work and I hate life so I don’t see the point in doing anything productive anyway.

Wrath buzzes around in my head like an angry bee every time I drink. I’m an alcoholic at heart. Alcohol is the only thing that can numb my mind until I can feel nothing at all. But it also makes me aggressively angry about everything. So I take my anger out the best way I can: smashing and destroying everything directly in my path. This normally means my precious possessions get destroyed in the process, but I make plenty of money anyway and objects can always be replaced.

Envy is my best friend. I feel it with every fiber of my being whenever I see other people laughing or having a good time. I have no interests or hobbies other than drinking, sleeping with beautiful women and buying expensive things with the extravagant money I have at my disposal. I have so much, yet own nothing worthwhile. And wish more than anything for something more. So I’m envious at other’s fortune in life.

Pride comes as a reminder that I do have a lot in life. Look at all of the things you own, it whispers quietly in my ear. And pride is right. I do have a lot of nice things in life. I mean, how many men can say they have the latest and greatest things life can afford? How many men can buy the best alcohol money can get you and buy as much of it as there’s available? How many men can have sex and eat as much as they want and still go back for more? Pride hits me whenever I’m at my lowest, reminding me of all of the nice things I own and saying that I’m lucky because not too many people have what I do. And pride is right. Pride is always right.

Hello, my name is Jack. And these are all of the reasons why I am going to hell.

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