Argath bent his hulking body over the bench. His thick fingers were bent to the work of shaping the small pins down into place. They were to hold the ruby in its mount. The dull red gem looked like a large drop of blood frozen in motion. It contrasted with the gold wirework on the pommel.
Had a hard time concentrating today. I decided to turn that into writing about a way I will sometimes try to fight writer's block and how weird it is. I managed to write something which feels like a victory.
This one was odd because I feel like I want to write more on it but I am not sure. I liked the notion of figuring out what to swear on.
Day 5 of my Flash Fiction February entries. The suggested prompt was "Challenge" so I went with a story about a climb in my Space Gods setting I keep revisiting.
On a Wing
My wings stretched as far as I could reach. I was trying to extend my glide, so I could make it to the city without too much work. I could have flapped my wings and gained altitude but that is exhausting and I was already tired. The ground was a dark blur below me like uneven ink spilled on a page. The noise blotted anything else out but my thoughts.