Hey, everyone!

3 more picture prompt stories for you today, one of them being SprinkleSquink’s.

Enjoy!

(P.S. This is my 200th post! 😀 )

Writefury’s

The Promised Planet

 

“Sarah.”

 

I look up at my name. Abraham stands at the window, his hand against the glass and a smile wrinkling his face.

 

“Come look.” His voice trembles in excitement.

 

I prop baby Isaac up on my hip and join him at the window. White light comes through the thick glass, reflecting off a planet and shining into our ship. I’ve seen some beautiful planets through our journey, but this one takes my breath away.

 

Blue and green marble together on its surface in brilliant, gemstone colors and fluffy white clouds swirl lazily over it all. Isaac laughs and flaps his little arms happily at the view. I breathe out thankfulness to God for making such a beautiful universe.

 

“It’s beautiful,” I tell Abraham, unable to take my eyes off the window.

 

He reaches down and brushes back one of the grey hairs escaping my bun, “I’m glad,” Abraham smiles, “This is the Promised one.”

 

My eyes pop wide open and I whirl to face him,

 

“This is the one God told you of? This is the end of our journey?”

 

Abraham nods and wraps an arm around me and Isaac,

 

“This is our home now.”

 

We three soak in the view and thank God together for a few minutes before Abraham prepare the ship for landing.

 

I sit by the window, nearly bursting with happiness. Isaac puts a chubby hand up on the glass and turns to me with a toothless smile.

 

I ruffle his hair, “Welcome home, Isaac.”

 

SprinkleSquink’s

Mars Thanksgiving

 

“We’re almost there, Danny!” crooned my grandma.

 

“I’m sure Uncle Keith can’t wait to see how big you’ve gotten!” said my mom, as we watched the earth drop away.

 

Uncle Keith had moved to Mars with my aunt and cousins. My parents and grandma had stayed on Earth. Almost everyone else moved to different planets.

 

I liked the ride to Mars. It was pretty with the stars shooting past us. We were going to my uncle’s house for Thanksgiving. We brought the yams and pie.

 

“Alrighty! We’re here!” announced my dad. Dad lowered the ladder and we got out.

 

“I like the scenery on Mars,” commented my mom.

 

“After the space crew put the water here and the dome around the outside, it’s like a big beach!” added grandma.

 

“Hi everyone! Come on inside!” welcomed my aunt. As we closed the door inside the house, Uncle Keith walked over. He looked at me.

 

“Hi, Buddy! Boy, you’ve gotten big since I last saw you!”

 

 

As the family gathered around the table, they started to say what they were thankful for.

 

Grandma began, “I’m thankful for the wonderful family we have!”

 

Aunty- “I’m thankful for a wonderful new home!”

Uncle- “What I’m thankful for is the awesome cooks!”

 

Dad- “I agree about the family!”

 

My cousins- “We like the pie and the cranberries!”

 

Mom- “I’m thankful for a cute baby and a good husband!”

 

Then they all looked at me expectantly. I cleared my throat.

 

“Pie.” I answered.

 

They all melted.

 

And the next picture prompt. I’ve only done this one so far.

The Darkman

To be honest, my new cellmate was a little boring.

 

Sure, he was known only to the world as “The Darkman”, and his mere name sent shudders down the spines of the bravest men.

 

But, really. The guy could have been a little bit better of a conversationalist. All he ever did was sit against the bars between us and mutter broodingly to himself about revenge and such.

 

I guessed that the best way to get a start was to identify with him, so one day I leaned up against the bars with him.

 

Darkman seemed not to notice. He pulled up a leg on the bench and rested his arm, somehow managing to look nonchalantly evil.

 

I muttered about murder, revenge and watermelons, hoping he didn’t hear the last part.

 

That caught his attention.

 

He turned, slowly and dramatically, fixing me with his bone-chilling gaze for the first time in a week.

 

“Who are you?” Darkman’s voice was a creepy rasp.

 

“Jake,” I grinned.

 

He squinted. I wondered how he managed to make everything he did look so evil.

 

“Why are you here?”

 

“Repeated shoplifting of Skittles. I wanted to try all the flavors. You?”

 

His face elongated in a non-remorseful grimace.

 

“I bombed New York.”

 

“Wow.” I was unsure of how to answer.

 

Silence.

 

“Well, if you ever need a henchman, tell me.”

 

Darkman shriveled into his corner, reminding me of a slug.

 

“I work alone.”

 

Of course you do.

 

I’d rather make friends with the next guy.

 

Guess what? All of those stories are exactly 250 words.

Because we really like hitting the maximum word count.

Which ones did you like best?

Please comment!

~writefury