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PROMPT-FILL: 407. Cursed by a random and cruel stranger

A stranger casts The Curse on a young girl with not a single exchange of words between them. In fact, with the heavy traffic on the road, she never saw who cast The Curse.

She simply woke up the next day in screaming agony as her body began to rearrange itself in preparation for the change.

She was terrified but helpless to it. There was no cure and no stopping what was happening to her.

She forced herself to endure as her bones shifted and broke. As her skin ripped as it failed to stretch over her new, larger shape. Blood and plasma stained through her sheets and ruined the mattress below. They were the gushing fluids of her rebirth.

And for a time she rested in wretched skinlessness. Days passed with no food or water. Her breath came in a dull, agonizing wheeze as even the tiniest motion made her flesh burn.

She’d thought she’d died. She should have died. But she didn’t. She endured.

She survived until she could crawl from the bed to the bathroom sink. To the water she greedily swallowed even as her patchy and scabbed skin stung and brought tears to her eyes.

She stayed in her home for weeks, surviving on water and the few scraps of food she could force herself to swallow.

Gradually she healed. Until one day all the pain was gone and her scabs were solid and had ceased to split and bleed. She wasn’t healthy yet, but she was mending.

So with some trepidation and a large dose of fear, she stepped in front of the long mirror. And she looked at herself, at her new life.

=THE END?=

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PROMPT: “Like werewolves and serial killers, I prefer a fullmoon and clear skies.”

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A. Florentine and Rickets:

R: “What’s with the helmet and leather jacket?”
F: “I’m going out to ride my scooter.”
R: “It’s the middle of the night.”
F: “Like werewolves and serial killers, I prefer a fullmoon and clear skies.”

*
B. A Last Goodbye to Balor Hammerhart:

The last flight of Balor Hammerhart was burned into Aeron’s memory. He’d been in the crowd of spectators watching the launch of the first Seed ship. He’d seen it arch up and up, then there was a flash of light so bright that the outline of the ship seemed burned into the sky. It was the last thing he’d seen before his eyes were permanently damaged by the radiation released during the explosion of the hyperdrive.

Balor’s last words rang through his mind, “Like werewolves and serial killers, I prefer a fullmoon and clear skies…” and it didn’t hurt as much as it used to. It seemed that he was finally getting over what had happened.

Seven years of therapies, surgeries, and sacrificed dreams and he finally felt as though he could let go of Balor and move on.

“Which is why I need to visit his grave,” Aeron said.

“But it’s all the way on Titan,” Saera said. He could hear the worry in her voice.

“Mom, it’s going to be fine,” he said. “It’s a short shuttle ride to the Gatestation, then a needle trip through the Eye. I’m only going to be gone a few weeks.”

“Still, anything could happen. It seems dangerous to me.”

“It’s not anymore dangerous than a trip past the Wall. Plus I’ve already hired a Security clone to act as my Companion.” Aeron held out his hand until … Read the rest “magazine 001 – prompt, Eric Andre, Snowden,”

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American Ultra wasn’t quite the hot dumpster fire I’d feared it was going to be, but it wasn’t as enjoyable as I wanted it to be either. There was a definite sense of disjointedness to the story.

I wish they hadn’t discarded that original storyline of a woman loving a flawed man. That was some powerful stuff there. And those tiny morsels of it strewn through the Frankenstein monster of the rest of the movie made me sad.

As I was watching, I kept thinking “With some editing this could be a watchable movie.”

As it was, American Ultra was a dud.

KStew was charming as always. She did the best she could with some truly terrible dialogue.

Jesse Eisenberg left me cold. He’s always so glib. It takes away from whatever scene he’s in.

I can’t think of her name, but she’s a lovely lady in every TV show she’s in… Oh lordy. Someone needs to fire the makeup person, because that was definitely not some HD-ready foundation. And someone needs to yell at the editors for not smoothing the scenes up in post.

And then there’s Topher Grace.

Topher Grace.

Topher Grace.

Seriously, he’s got the role of sleazy badguy down pat. But he definitely should have pointed out how awful most of his lines were, and how they totally destroyed any credibility this movie might have had.

American Ultra is not a flaming dumpster fire. There are a few scenes that will hopefully be cut out and reused someday in a much better movie. But most of it does belong in a dumpster.

I make wishes on the stars all the time. It doesn't seem like a waste to me. Because in the forming of a wish--an idea--a concept of what can be is created. And until a wish is formulated, it's nothing but stardust and fantasy.