Storygram #91
Dust rolled off the roof of the cabin as a gust of wind blew across the plains. The sun was beating down just as mercilessly as it had been for the past two months. Moisture had been sucked out of every square inch of the land.
Storygram #90
Alleys had never been his favorite places. They were dingy and full of society’s outcasts. At least he had always made that distinction between himself and them, but now, he was no different. He had become more a part of their world than he’d ever thought possible.
Storygram #89
When the horizon had given up the last of its glowing gradient, something thumped the bottom of her boat. There was some splashing in the water and more thumping as her boat began rocking back and forth. She laid there with her eyes closed, too terrified to look.
Storygram #88
This is where it happened. Seeing the very same spot again for the first time in 40 years was more overwhelming than she could have imagined. The memories rolled in like a tsunami.
Storygram #87
He checked the pressure gauges to make certain everything was still normal. One wrong move and he could sink and implode in a matter of seconds or spring a leak and drown.
Storygram #86
“BAY 3. SPEAK TO NO ONE.” That’s all they would ever tell me about the nameless building at 97 Bracker Lane. I was supposed to keep my mouth shut and drop off my payload.
Storygram #85
Sliding past people through the narrow dirt roads is just part of life. I can remember when I was little having to sit in an endless sea of cars to get anywhere. Now, it’s just people struggling to survive in a world with a population that is spiraling out of control.
Storygram #84
Every day, he threw a red backpack over his shoulder and hauled his stool down to a street corner. When he was young, his father had told him to always dress for the job he wanted to have. The decades of watching and studying various blues musicians had heavily informed his attire.
Storygram #83
He wasn’t nervous. Anger, apprehension, and confusion were all there—but not nervousness. He considered breaking the rules, putting a stop to this game they were playing, but nervousness wasn’t the reason.
Storygram #82
So, you think you’ve traveled, do you? Well, grab yourself a pint and warm your lucky toes by the fire because this tale will leave you cold. It was twelve years ago. I traveled to the south lands, intending to catch me a ferry to Irilia.
Storygram #81
Escorted by two men, he proceeded down the tunnel. He had been training for this for two years and having to travel another ten minutes was excruciating.
Storygram #80
He watched as she made a gesture in the air that caused a metal blind to retract from a window, revealing the Earth. She made a different gesture several times, zooming in on him in his suit. He looked at the Moon and waved.
Storygram #79
My father’s old office is stuffed with papers, dry rotted furniture, and rodents. His death left me with a mountain of work that has to be done, including cleaning out and selling his office building.
Storygram #78
Something about the pond told her she should turn around, walk away, never return. But her curiosity was an impulse she had never been able to ignore, and a thousand warning signs could never dissuade her.
Storygram #77
Each day was like putting together a puzzle, without knowing what picture it formed. He knew he had all the pieces. He knew he would figure it out in time. But there was no guide to help him, no end goal or instructions—only daily guesses.
Storygram #76
My tie isn’t straight, despite my efforts in front of the mirror. I give it a wiggle and push it upward, hoping it will land in a place we can compromise on. The news reporters are droning on and on about the same thing every station is discussing.
Storygram #75
She watched as he turned the ball in his hand, searching for the perfect grip on that red seam as he prepared himself for the first pitch of the game. He looked up and made brief eye contact with her, as though he could sense a commonality between them.
Storygram #74
He fiddled with the ring in his right pants pocket, rubbing the smooth top of the diamond. It had taken him months to buy it. And she didn’t suspect a thing.
Storygram #73
As I stare at a reflection of the moon and stars on the pond’s surface, a blue mist begins to form in the center. Without a sound it swirls around itself and grows, until it forms a translucent blue dragon.
How To Start Writing
Two main ingredients. That’s it. If you’re determined to be a writer, these two things are all you need to get started.