I mentioned in yesterday’s Lughnasadh post that I’d been writing again. Specifically that I’d written based off of a #MissMuseMe prompt. Here is the short story that came from it, along with the picture that inspired it. I began it on Monday, and just finished it a few moments ago. It is an erotic story, though probably only a hard PG-13… consider yourself warned.
Somewhere there lies a city full of strange and beautiful people who refuse to conform to normalcy. It is the place where forgotten dreams go to be found. All the dreams and hopes that we give up out of fear, for practical reasons, or just because we’ve become too old, all of them settle into this once small village, now a thriving metropolis of music and art and magic.
The busboy, who wanted to be a rapper, tossed his dream out the window with a half smoked cigarette around 14th Street when he decided to take his uncle up on that offer to help run his shoe store. The boy had a song in his head, the last vestiges of his dream, and he hummed a little beat, but never wrote it down. Continue reading