The Starving Activist is the sometimes-home for words. AR Neal (that’s me) finds them, cultivates them, and leaves them here. Enjoy.

VisDare11: Superstitious, Pt. 4

Evelyn rolled her eyes; Annisa was hopeless. However, whatever she was saying during her commune with the snails was doing something: the ground beneath them started to shake. She grabbed Annisa’s arm, causing her to shout, “Hey! What are you doing? I wasn’t fini--”Annisa ended her sentence in a gasp of air as she finally looked around to see why Evelyn had grabbed her. The landscape around them was changing; the buildings were gone and the snails, along with their statuesque perch, were disappearing. Everything was spinning and below them, a vortex had appeared.“Is that a farm?” Evelyn was astonished, not so much by what she saw but by the fact that she would recognize a farm outside of a picture book. She was so much a girl of the cities and suburbs.Annisa’s voice was distant. “I hope not, because it’s harvest preparation and sacrifice time.”

Written for VisDare11 and in continuation...

Prompts for the Promptless: Worship

Friday Fictioneers, 15 March 2013: One Mite, Pt. 4