He stood at the highest hill above the city. The storm rages on a tree nearby as the rain wraps around his neck in a shiver of care.
Sometimes I sit and think of nothing in particular. I simply lay down on the bed or on the cold parquet floor and stare at the ceiling; deep into the ceiling. A ceiling of wonder and vast possibilities. It may be a window into some other realm; a realm you create. The thought keeps flowing but nothing in particular.
Grounded on a new land he felt blinded. Blinded by the sun and the odd surroundings he used to call home.
There is a little buddy hanging around this place.
He warms up my lap while I type away some fictitious world or being.
Any other writing pets, share them in the comments.
I am all about short short stories, be it on Twitter, Google+, or Facebook. This is far from my first (and last) attempt at six word stories. The following stories are in response to an interesting May writing prompt. There are quite a few good responses to this prompt; you should give it a try.
- She smiled at the sunny rain.
- Inebriate memories of his pocket watch.
- Words too soon caused the fight.
- Their tiny selves made grand films.
- He jumped off; first sky dive.
- “I asked for natural hair dye!”