Writing Prompt: Fiction – The Myriad Storm #amwriting #fiction 


Thanks to Oloriel of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last Sunday’s Writing Prompt Challenge. I’m still playing catchup from NaPiWriMo and A to Z,  a month later. Oloriel has given us some detailed names of colors to use in a story of some ‘peculiar ‘ kind. 

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Credit: Oloriel – MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

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Amaranthine clouds covered the sky as nighttime faded suffusing the morning with clouds of titian and vermillion. Jacob gazed up looking for the curulean sky, he’d even settle for a griege sky. But against all hope the curulean sky never arrived and erythaean red mixed with aubergine llfusing with a sickly viris blackening the sky and ocean. 

The vibrant erythaean red came with a warning Jacob the fishermen could not ignore. The quote his great- grandfather used, that his Grandpa used, and his dear father also mimicked, flickered through Jacob’s mind: “Red sky at night, sailors delight; red sky at mourn, sailors be warned.” 

The ocean was churning now, a deep dank lovat and zinnobar. The waves crashed against Jacob’s tiny boat. He felt most insignificant in the myriad of colors he’d witnessed this dawn and in the vastness of the angry ocean. A crack of lightning had Jacob jumping, hurrying to bring the fishing boat to harbor before the storm came closer. He pulled on ropes and adjusted his sails, steering the boat towards land that appeared close but was too far away. 

He mumbled ‘Hail Marys’ and hoped above hope, soaked to the bone, as the ocean threatened to capsize his fishing boat. Then, brilliant xanthic lightning hit the boat and Jacob bumped his head, falling unconscious the waves battered his ship. 

The next thing he knew, he was lying on a sandy beach, his boat mostly undamaged sitting further up shore. He didn’t know how he or his boat had managed to survive but he gazed up at the clear azure sky and thanked God for his good fortune. His favourite color was a sunny azure blue it meant tranquility and a good day’s catch. It was quiet hope being strengthened after the horror of a storm. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

3LineTales: Sailing In Love, Remembering His Dad, The Tuna Who Ate Willy.


Thanks to Sonya from 100 Words Or Less for hosting this prompt.

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Charlie Harutaka

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1. I adore the colour oceanic blue, it’s almost turquoise with a hint of green in it; our sale boat has stripes of oceanic blue across it’s sails and I look up at them with appreciation as the sails flutter and dance in the strong winds of the ocean; In awe I stare at the finely muscled man guiding the sail boat and letting it go as he greets me with a hedonistic kiss, and I stare into his oceanic blue eyes as he loves me in our cabin below deck.

2. My name is Charlie and I am five-years-old; I don’t know my Dad but my Mom says he liked to sail and that this summer she is going to take me sailing like my Dad and her used to do; I can’t wait, every night I play with the toy ship my Dad gave me (although Mom says it’s not a toy but something to remember Dad by) and I pretend I am sailing the ocean with my Mom and my Dad; we sail everywhere, the three of us together.

3. His face had deep-set wrinkles as if they had been creased on his withered skin forever; he smoked a pipe and I recall the whirls of smoke curling up into the air as he sat inside the coffee shop/bate shop and considered his fishing boat; his name was Willy and Willy and his crew went out everyday in his fishing boat to where the most gigantic Tuna swam; they were huge fish, and some brought in near ten thousand dollars; the story goes, one day Willy set out to catch the biggest Tuna he had ever seen and instead of catching the Tuna on his fishing rod, the line snapped and Willy tumbled into the ocean and was swallowed by the enormous Tuna; Willy’s never been seen again.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.