Genre: general, humour
“My daddy said ‘If you start something finish it,” the student said.
“That’s good, but how does that answer why you plucked all the feathers off this poor chicken?” the teacher asked as she ran a soothing hand over the naked chicken.
“It was an accident, Miss. I pulled some feathers, so I pulled all the feathers from the wing, then all the feathers,” the student said with scratch marks all along his arms from the chicken.
The teacher didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She settled for a stern but understanding ‘teacher face’ and carefully considered her words.
“Do you think it was good to pluck the chicken’s feathers?”
“It’s good that you finished what you started, but next time, if you’re doing something that doesn’t feel right, ask your teacher or parents first, okay?”
“You’re dismissed. Go back to class.”
She was definitely telling her husband about this tonight.
~To Save a Life~
Just 5 hours. He would go back 5 hours, stop the experiment before it overloaded, and save his wife.
He reached for the time machine.
“You won’t remember even if you go back.”
His student stepped out from behind the shelf. He hurriedly pulled his hand back and combed his fingers through his hair.
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
“You’ve gone back at least twenty times to save your wife. You just don’t remember it. But I do. I can help.”
“You’re not going to stop me?” Meddling with time was taboo. Even first years knew that.
“Already tried. Didn’t work. If you can’t beat them, join them, right? So, tell me, how can I save your wife?”
He released a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. All the ‘should have’ and ‘if only’ that had hounded him since the accident jumped to the front of his mind.
“This is what you need to do.”
Genre: slice of life, fantasy, romance?
She had lived dozens of lives and experienced dozens of lifestyles, but this was the first time she was being confessed to by someone so young.
“Is it because I’m younger than you? I don’t care about that. Age is just a number,” the boy insisted.
She swallowed a laugh. Everyone was younger than her. They just didn’t know it. Dating anyone made her feel like a crib robber, let alone this kid who wasn’t old enough to grow a beard.
“I’m your teacher. The relationship would be inappropriate no matter how you look at it. But, if you let me, I know someone else who can make you very happy.”
Her student didn’t look convinced, but left without a fight. Now alone, she grinned.
She had lived dozens of lives and experienced dozens of lifestyles, and her matchmaking skills, honed over the centuries, were second to none. It was time to play.
My response to the prompt fishing.
She opened the first bottle and dropped the end of her line into the luminescent blue liquid. Once the liquid soaked into the line, the bright blue tip floated into the air. She guided the tip to one of the usual hot spots and waited.
It didn’t take long for the first bite. With a twist of her hand, the string looped around her target and she pulled it down into the basket beside her.
There. One furry fish down, 369 more to go to make a fish cloak. She dipped the line into the bottle again and cast it into the air.
Her teacher better use the cloak. If he changed his mind again, she would skin him next.
Been awhile since I did something really fantasy-like. I actually didn’t know what the character was fishing for until the very end XP
Genre: slice of life
23. 24. 25… Someone was missing.
She took another scan at her students, checking them off her mental attendance list until she figured out the missing child.
She let her helpers know she was leaving and retraced their steps. He wasn’t at the lolly store, or the woodshed, or the cheese stall. She crossed the street, past the bookstore, ice cream parlour, honey stall. Still no signs. She turned the corner.
Her ears picked up the wail in the air, then her eyes found the group of people at the corner of the street.
How did he get there?
She cut through the crowd to pull the silly boy into her arms.
“You forgot me,” he wailed.
“I remember you now. Let’s go back,” she said.
Holding his little snot-covered hand, she led him back to the group. She didn’t know how they left him behind last time, but she was going to keep him glued to her side if that was what it took to keep him with them for the rest of the trip.
My response to the August prompt ‘forgotten’.
There were people everywhere he looked, but he didn’t know any of them.
He curled into a ball at the corner of the street and cried.
They forgot him. Just like last time. What if no one knew he was gone and went back to school?
He cried even harder. Strangers tried to give him things but he didn’t want things. He wanted someone to come back for him.
Someone touched him. He curled even tighter.
Teacher, come back.
~The story continues in Missing Child.~