Prologue

I finally got around to writing the prologue of the novel I'm attempting to write. It took a while to sort out my ideas and rethink a lot of my initial ideas about this world, but I think I finally understand what I need to do.

This story is set in a world where women are surgically/genetically enhanced and sold as "wives" to the upper class (but are pretty much servants/slaves). But rebellion is stirring and a threat that can destroy everyone is lurking in the shadows...

Does that sound interesting? I hope it does. Have a look at the prologue and let me know what you think. I need critical readers to knock some sense into me - too much (unnecessary) information being thrown at you? Did I get carried away with metaphors (I tend to do that...it's either all or nothing haha)? Does my dialogue read like plastic people talking about a cardboard world?

If some genius person can help me come up with a title for this thing, I will be eternally grateful.

And please do let me know if you enjoy it :)

*sidenote: I just discovered the program yWriter, and I love it! It's so useful :)

Prologue:

20 years ago, Stockholm, Sweden

The room was still. Not a whisper of movement as fifteen pairs of eyes stared at the glowing screen in front of them, unblinking. In a few seconds, the world would be altered forever, and these men and women would either dissolve along with the ashes of the earth or be left to mourn and pick up the pieces. It was hard to tell which was worse.

Flash fiction: Coffee Grounds

This is my most recent story. It's more of an exercise or a sketch than a full fledged story - the rules were to write a 200 word story about any topic of your choice and then shorten it to 150 words or less (a 25% reduction!). Anyways, here it is:

200 word version:

"Have you considered my offer?" Trisha took a sip of her coffee and replaced it on the counter top, staring expectantly at the young woman across from her. The wide teeth-baring smile that stretched across her face began to lose its glamour as her eyes hardened.

"I have," Leslie responded. "Good. Then we can start with the paperwork right away." Trisha bent to retrieve a large leather purse and began rifling through it.

"I didn't say that I had accepted." Trisha froze, glanced up. "Why, Leslie dear, you can't possibly expect me to believe -"

"I'm afraid my daughter is not for sale."

 "Goodness! This isn't a sale, it's an adoption! Think of the poor child, and you without any means to support her. We at the Mulligan Corporation are just what your child needs. We can give her everything she needs and more - all we ask is that she participate in a few of our...projects. Tell me, Leslie, what can you give her that we can't?"

Leslie stood up. "I can be a mother to her." She walked out of the cafe, leaving Trisha with a frozen smile and the taste of bitter coffee grounds in her mouth.

150 word version: 

"Have you considered my offer?" Trisha sipped her coffee, replaced it on the counter. She stared at the young woman across from her, her teeth-baring smile losing its glamour with each second.

"I have," Leslie responded. "Good. We can begin the paperwork immediately." Trisha bent to retrieve her leather purse and began rifling through it.

"I didn't say I've accepted." Trisha froze. "Leslie dear, you can't possibly expect-"

"My daughter is not for sale." "A sale! It's an adoption! We at the Mulligan Corporation are just what she needs. We can give her everything she needs - all we ask is that she participate in a few of our...projects. Tell me, Leslie, what can you give her that we can't?"

Leslie stood up. "I can be a mother to her." She walked out, leaving Trisha with a frozen smile and the taste of bitter coffee grounds in her mouth.

Short Story: Hall of Mirrors

Disclaimer - this short story is the longest one I've written, clocking in at 2,952 words. It's about what happens when you are forced to live in a world of nightmares, and whether you will ever be able to wake up.

Hall of Mirrors

She has never been afraid of the dark. After all, it is all she has ever known.

For twelve of her seventeen years, she has been in this world of shadow, where her fantasies and memories swirl together until she can no longer tell what is real and what isn't. Sometimes words come to her consciousness that she doesn't quite recognize. Sunshine. Birdsong. Laughter. They brush at the edges of her memory, weave themselves into her dreams. They are words that she once knew the meaning of, but now those meanings have slipped away. These words are no longer part of her world.
 Her world is this world of shadow, the maze of her own mind.

***

Short Story: Attaining Perfection

This story is the first one I wrote as a contest entry. Attaining Perfection was for the "The List" contest on Figment, in which you were asked to write about someone who was considered "pretty" or "ugly". I chose to write about someone who could be considered both of these things. I also explored the concept of identity and how we define ourselves. Here is the story:

                “Step right this way, Natalie.”

                I follow the nurse silently into the operation room. She wears a mask over her face, so I cannot see her features, but I know they must be beautiful. After all, when you spend your days molding flesh and sculpting bone, how could you settle for anything less than perfection in your own face?