I tried this last month and people seemed to like it so I’m back with more selections from my Daily Writing Journal. These are meant to be short 50 word or more blurbs to get myself in the writing mood. There is no form or continuity to the blurbs, they are just random thoughts from my brain to the keyboard. Enjoy!
Blood pooled on the floor of the observation deck, collecting the droplets that fell from above. The body hung from the scaffling wrapped in a canvas tarp like a butterfly in a cocoon. The bottom of the tarp, where the body had shifted, was stained crimson.
One of the workmen had found the body after he had returned from lunch. Now the authorities were on their way, sirens blaring. More time for the murderer to escape. More time for the murderer revel in his victory.
Alan was pressed against the ship’s hull. Several of the ropes securing the cargo had become loose, sending wooden crates tumbling across the room. One of those crates had pinned Alan’s leg between one of the crates and the hull.
He felt a warm rush flood up his leg, a fire burning, spreading slowly though his body. His foot tingled and it felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds.
If this was the best tavern in town, he should just give up now. There were over half a dozen nudgers prowling around the bar, some leaning against the stair’s railings, and others sat at tables trying to lure in the next mark. All he wanted was a drink.
One of then walked up to him and gave him wink and smile. This particular nudger, a woman in her thirties, though it was sometimes hard to tell. That line of work seemed to unnaturally age women, stealing their youth as well as their innocence. He always felt sorry for them, praying to the Almighty that he would protect them from the harm.
Olan jerked away from the guards grasp and stumbled down the hall. He hadn’t done anything wrong, it was that brat. That stupid little street urchin who rummaged through the garbage. What had he done now?
“Stop!” Called the Guard.
“I didn’t do anything! Go away!” Alan spouted as he loped down the old alleyway.
“We just want to talk to you!”
Talk! Ha! When did a copper ever just want to talk? They just wanted to blame him for something that urchin had done.
The guard stopped. He would come back eventually. Besides, he had the man’s coin purse that he’d dropped coming out of the pub. That little street urchin had found it and turned it in to him.
There was nothing grander than a view from atop the Dock-tower as the sun was rising. Corim watched as the sun stretched itself over the horizon, the sunlight causing the distant storm clouds reflecting it’s orange glow.
Far below him few noticed the sunrise. The Docks were full and there were plenty of airships waiting to take their turn unloading. Dockworkers, unloaded ships at an astounding rate. Corim Smiled. This was how life was supposed to be. Tradesmen and merchants buying and shipping their wares, and Corim collected the docking fees.
Light reflected off the cold grey of the gun barrel giving the snipers position away. A moment later a body fell from the roof of the warehouse, the corpse just missing a street vendor selling meat pies. There were screams as people noticed the body. Typical of these city folk.
He had found one assassin, but there were two more stalking. That could be just rumor but he didn’t think so…
Maro Lonewolf watched the crowd gather at the base of the oak tree, the one that the locals called The Hanging Tree. As one would expect, this tree had been a favorite of local lynch mobs since before Maro could remember. Today would be no different.
One of the homesteaders had caught a burglar whom had broken into his home and attacked his wife. The husband had found the man, pulled the him off of his wife, and had beaten him until he’d quit moving.