The Aether Prompt: May 1st, 2019

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

10 thoughts on “The Aether Prompt: May 1st, 2019

Add yours

  1. Thanks, Jason. Here’s my story:

    Dev headed to the quarry. The brotherhood was meeting there, getting riled up and talking guns, working up some powerful indignation. He wanted to fit in, to glory in the righteousness that electrified their veins.

    The moon was a silver pond but the forest lay dark beneath the pines. He paused to get a bearing. Fireflies twinkled, and he cupped one in his hands. Not until he freed it, did he behold the fairy with golden wings.

    If there were fairies, there were monsters. He backtracked home and called the police… because there might also be a God.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Congratulations, Diana! You’re the winner of the May 1st Aether Prompt!

      I loved the mix of modern and magical you wove with this one. You placed your protagonist in a dark place both physically and emotionally, then showed what even a small glimpse of light and a bigger world can accomplish. Superb!

      Your winning entry will get a featured post tomorrow. :-)

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Thanks, Jason. It’s funny how sometimes the stories are right there and other times not so much. I’m glad you enjoyed this one. I’m out of state taking care of my parents, but I’ll make a point of stopping by. Thanks again for the fun. :-)

        Liked by 1 person

  2. “We used to come here all the time,” Jean said. There was no one to hear him. Probably. “I’m glad you’re not here now.” Jean smiled, then rubbed his head. “I’ve gotten enough jokes about the hair cut.”

    Jean’s hands started hating his pockets. They picked at them, crawled out of them and pulled up his pants for no reason, then scratched at his face before he could stop them. After, his left bumped into his hip, crinkling the envelope that brought him here.

    “What do you want Lyn? I hate fireflies. You knew that… You always knew that.”

    Liked by 1 person

  3. On a moon-filled night, in a darksome wood, the shaman opened his bag. One by one, the spirits rose from its shadowed mouth. The world was a prison, filled with darkness of another sort. A self-blind sickness of those who would not see the wonders all around them.

    These souls had been called mad, for keeping their eyes open. For not pretending they could not see. But now they were set free, restored to their ancestral grove.

    Liked by 1 person

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