Writers! Rev up your aethereal engines of imagination, and use the image above as a prompt to create a microfiction of one hundred words or less!
Anything that fits under the umbrella of speculative fiction — science fiction, fantasy, horror, supernatural fiction and more — is welcome to be shared as a comment to this post. I will select my favorite very short story from those submitted… and turn your words into a fully polished and credited presentation (in the style of my Aethereal Musings) to be featured on an upcoming Thursday on the blog!
BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE!
If your piece is selected to be featured, you will be in the running to win the 2019 AETHEREAL ENGINEER WRITER SUPPORT PRIZE PACKAGE!
This mysterious box will be packed with all sorts of wonderful goodies catering to your authorly needs, all hand selected by yours truly! At a total estimated value of at least $100, you could brag about receiving one of the highest per-word payouts for any submission, anywhere!
How might you win such a fantabulous treasure?
The featured Thursday posts for Aether Prompt winners (not the initial Wednesday prompts) will receive a score. Each “Like” on a post will grant one point to the author’s score, and each unique WordPress reblog will grant three points. The author of the piece with the most points by December 1st, 2019… WINS!
I reserve the full and unquestioned right to break any ties, disqualify entries if shenanigans are suspected, and declare a winner with absolute and final authority. If you win, I will require your physical address to ship your prize to you (with standard shipping included free of charge).
So what are you waiting for? Write to get your creative engines going today! Write for the glory! Write for a chance to win a fantabulous prize!
But whatever you do, just keep writing. :-)
Take care everyone, I look forward to your creations!
~Jason H. Abbott
Aethereal Engineer 
“Your garden could use some help,” I said. Artemis’s face scrunched in surprisingly childish irritation. I wasn’t sure how her alabaster features weren’t marred by this.
“I planned to hire an angel,” she said, her voice a mixture of piano strings and clinking ice shards. Then she looked at me with a sly smile. It made her nigh unwatchable. “Perhaps my new mortal servant would like to petition for the position.”
I was glad for the red starlight.
“What would you pay the angel?”
Her knowing look made me melt the guard rail.
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Congratulations, Scribe of the Vault, you’re the winner of the February 13th Aether Prompt!
It’s a back-to-back win! You came out on top this time because I really enjoyed the otherworldly, fantastical quality you wove into your prose. Great character voices and interplay that paints a mood and setting. Wonderful hook of a scene as well.
Your winning entry will get a featured post on Thursday, March 14th. :-)
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Yay! Thank you so much. I spent a bunch of time reading your stuff and learned a lot about how to build a scene in miniature. So thanks again. I’m going for the record, lol, whatever that is. Ha. I am having a problem though. Your prompts are so good, I keep wanting to get distracted and make a whole story.
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The One shuffled through the old ruins, waving his flashlight through the decrepit old place.
This had once been the home to the creators of worlds, telekinetic beings whose knowledge could spread to the far reaches of the galaxy.
What had happened here?
A musky smell drifted to The One’s nostrils, the smell of decay and age.
The One sighed, pulling up his legs as he gazed out into the vacuum of space. Why aren’t they here? The prophecy had said that The One would meet the makers of worlds. And if the prophecy was wrong, they were all doomed.
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Nice, with a slight scent of Lovecraftian elder societies.
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The explosion had ripped through the atmosphere, a percussive tsunami that pulverized all but the sturdiest of structures. Nothing survived. Nothing. A century later, the sky still burned, and the defunct generators hovered over the continents like dying suns.
I adjusted the mask of my enviro-skin, struggling with the heat and recycled air. The straps of my breather dug grooves into my shoulders. I took new recordings and shook my head. The Earthlings had tried a thousand ways to generate enough power for their planet, everything except conservation. Good riddance. Another century or two, the world would be ours.
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Gloom, fire and the doom of mankind… I likes! A strong entry, Diana. :-)
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Thanks!
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As Pox stared down at the destruction, he realized with consternation that he was lonely. Now that there were no more humans to terrorize, what would he do now? He couldn’t go home to his world, because it was just as dead as this one.
Just as he thoughts drifted to ending his pathetic existence there and then, Pox saw a beacon of light in the dark. Someone had survived, and Pox wasn’t alone! His games could continue.
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No remorse, just terror at the thought of being bored. Great concept for an antagonist, I feel bad for that survivor!
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I wanted to show her my world. Though a child, she was the only one I could trust. She nodded, so I clicked my fingers and everything went dark. She gasped, then starlight appeared all around. Her eyes went wide when a chess floor showed itself from underneath. Withered vines hung from the iron rails of a gazebo. She moved to touch them and smiled. In the distance, a blood moon and a distant star peeked through the galactic clouds. Her next words struck me: “Can I stay here forever?” How could I tell her she would never survive here?
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Strong, mysterious opening. Good work!
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