The Unlikely Protector of Midgard

This is my response to the Friday Fictioneers prompt for March 13. The challenge is to write a 100-word story inspired by the photo prompt. Play along by writing your own, reading others and/or commenting on the flashes we fictioneers create. The photo prompt this week comes from the inimitable Sandra Crook, who can write a heartwarming tale and also whip up a helping of horror that will chill you like the stump in this photo. (Which direction will she choose this week, I wonder?)

My piece this week weighs in at 99 words.

Copyright Sandra Crook

Copyright Sandra Crook

The Unlikely Protector of Midgard

No one ever listened to Nadia, so she made a habit of talking to the cows as she milked them. She told Bossie and Jo stories of fire and ice and how time began. When she tired of the old tales, she created fresh ones—yarns about Asgard, Alfheim and Jotunheim, about Ygdrasil and Mimir.

In the pre-dawn darkness, a figure often hid, shrouded in shadow, and listened. Captivated by the stories, Nidhogge would forget to gnaw the roots of Ygdrasil.

The girl’s kindness colored every vignette, and throughout the winter, her narratives made the universe a safer place.

***

Are you interested in Norse mythology? I have a few friends who follow the old Norse traditions, and this photo just begged me to write about those ancient legends.

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Beauty for Knowledge

It’s time for Friday Fictioneers for May 23.

The challenge is to write a 100-word story inspired by the photo prompt.

Play along by writing your own, reading others and/or commenting on the flashes we fictioneers create.

My piece this week is a modern take on a story from Greek mythology and weighs in at 97 words.

Copyright Jennifer Pendergast

Copyright Jennifer Pendergast

 

Beauty for Knowledge

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Hazel asked.

Daphne nodded.

The sisters’ other experiments with spells and witchcraft had gone according to plan. Eighteen months ago they were playing with the Ouija board and attempting levitation. Now they were about to use magic to effect permanent change. If everything went as planned, the two would soon be free of their unwelcome suitors.

***

The spring of knowledge turned out to be a small college. Daphne wished she knew how to get in touch with Hazel. The frat boys here certainly weren’t an improvement on Apollo.

The Rock Cutter

Friday Fictioneers for March 7.

The challenge: Write a 100-word story inspired by the photo prompt.

Play along by writing your own, reading others and/or commenting on the flashes we fictioneers create.

My piece weighs in this week at 109 words.

Copyright Danny Bowman

Copyright Danny Bowman

The Rock Cutter sculpted his creations miles away from the quarry.

His first masterpiece was Medusa. He carefully crafted each feature of her horrifyingly beautiful face, fashioned each dreadful serpent in her lustrous locks. Next came the Banshee, so lifelike that those who viewed the sculpture could hear her blood-curdling wail.

The Rock Cutter’s collection grew. From hard stone, he coaxed likenesses of Queen Medb, Lilith, Lorelie and Hera. Smaller rocks became harpies and sirens.

When the Rock Cutter died, his work was put on display in the village square. Looking at the sculptures, the quarry owner’s son asked, “Dad, why do all these creatures have my mother’s face?”