Paula's Prompt

I have a bunch of freebie stories ready, inspired by the wonderful prompts provided by P.T. Wyant at ptwyant.com.

This is a special week for her, though. A week during which she has again asked me for Quartz's story.

Quartz is my deceased dwarf in 'Fairest'. He never lets me forget it. He also keeps yelling that he's not really dead and he's got a story of his own to tell.

P.T. Wyant encourages him in this. She, too, wants to read his story.

I started writing another segment of it, using her prompt of a sheep, sunlight, and a toy.

The good news is I wrote another chunk of Quartz's story. The bad news I wrote way too much.

Quartz and the 'Fairest' universe are currently in the care of Nine Star Press. When I finish my cranky dwarf's tale, I'm going to offer it to them. I've even thought which fairytale I could rewrite in rainbow hues to create it, although I need to do a bit more research on it.

There's only so much story one can offer up for free, according to their rules. This in mind, I can't post everything I wrote.

I can, however, post a teaser. :)

P.T. Wyant, this snippet is for you. :)

The sun was so bright, it made me sleepy. I put down the knife and the toy to blink, allowing my eyes to close…

…only to find myself facing a wooly head, a triangular muzzle with dull, dark eyes peering at me. 

“Gah!” I scrambled backwards from that face. “Mountain tits, where did you come from!” 

The sheep opened its mouth to let out the most sinister bleat I’d ever heard. “Bah!”

“Stop it!” I clapped my hands over my ears.

“Why, my dear Quartz, surely you’re not afraid of sheep?” 

There he was, our ‘benefactor’, sitting astride the beast’s wooly back like some fool human on top of a horse. He grinned down at me, looking all too pleased with himself. 

“Most people find them soothing, you know.” He wagged a much bonier finger than Opal’s in a gesture that seemed to mock my brother’s. “They count them in order to reach a more peaceful state of rest.”

“There’s nothing peaceful about the noise that…that thing makes!” I spluttered, looking wildly around. 

Nothing, but a flat, golden field of grass everywhere the eye could see. Not even a hill in sight or a rock. 

Mountain tits, or perhaps in this situation titless, this could only be Hell. Being imprisoned by goblins seemed idyllic by comparison.