This is one of my prompt-fill for "WIPs, Snips, Bits and Bobs."

8. After the divorce was finalized, an out-of-work astrophysicist caused the zombie apocalypse.

The zombie apocalypse was nowhere in her plans. It was just something that happened. That was her story, and she was sticking to it.

God, she hated the way the guilt ate away at her. It felt like it was searing straight through to the heart and soul of her.

She’d screwed up. The whole world was being punished for it.

Huddling in the mess of her office, she gave in to her despair for a time. Sobbing into her hands, her mouth opening wide in silent screams, while snot dripped from her nose and her whole body shook.

She hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. She’d been trying to fix things ever since she’d realized what she’d done. But it was no good.

She had to face the facts of the situation: There was no reversing the zombie virus ravaging across the country.

There was no cure. No magic bullet to fix everything.

There was only going to be a fight to survive, and the reality of success or failure at living. No bringing anybody back once they were infected.

The thought of all the dead turned her stomach. And it wasn’t completely guilt. It was the hopelessness of it all. The realization that no matter what she did it wasn’t going to make anything better, because there was no longer anything to make better.

All those people out there, turned into ravening monsters, attacking their families and friends… They could not be saved.

They were already dead. And now they were killing any living creatures they came across, from human to animal. Though only humans were reanimating. So-far.

She’d thought giving … Read the rest ““After the divorce was finalized, an out-of-work astrophysicist caused the zombie apocalypse” #HarperWCK”

While avoiding creditors, a banker was hit by a truck while crossing the street.

It should have been the start of a funny story. Not funny "haha," but a quirky anecdote told at a party or in a passing way.

Instead it was the story of her life.

The life her father had left her, after getting himself killed running across a busy intersection. He was trying to avoid the creditors chasing him at the time, but he still hadn’t given the daytime traffic more than a passing glance.

The truck had hit him head on.

He’d died at the scene.

The creditors had been forced to give her nearly a million dollars in compensation for causing her father’s death.

It was both ironic and horrible.

What should have been a funny story was instead the tragedy of her teenaged life. Was the source of her misery as a newly orphaned teen with a passel of unknown relatives suddenly popping out of the woodwork.

Her money was in a trust account that handled her school fees and paid her caretakers a monthly stipend. It was a guaranteed $2500 every month until she was 18, when the money started transferring into her own bank account.

Until she was 18, she was a "rich girl" with empty pockets. The money never felt as real as the loss of her father.

It wasn’t worth it.

Using an Amazon Music Unlimited trial.

I wanted to be like “Hey, why does this recommendation playlist have all these old songs? They’re all from before I was born.” But now that I’m listening to it… This playlist gets me lol.

“Don’t hang around // cos two’s a crowd (on my cloud.”

Though, seriously, some of these old songs… the lyrics are questionable at best. Horrifying at worse.

“White Rabbit” by Jefferson Airplane is a love-love song. Her voice. The Alice references. There’s no doubt why it was such a big hit. It’s in my every music archive even if it’s not on a playlist.… Read the rest “Hey You, Get Off of My Cloud”

Title: The Realness of Things

Author: Harper Kingsley
Description: A man that’s afraid of the doll in his house.

It watched him from its perch in the corner. That fucking doll.

He hated it because he feared it. Such a stupid, childish fear.

He hated that it was able to eat away at him, draining the energy from his bones with each moment that he knew it was there. Watching him. Waiting in the dark for him to fall asleep. Planning during the day when he was away.

The thought of it moving around the house when he was gone made him tense all through the workday. It was the dark circles that grew beneath his eyes that had him ordering surveillance cameras. He had them sent to the office.

Innocuous-looking items he was able to arrange around the house as though he’d simply gone on a store closeout shopping spree. He mixed in non-surveillance ornaments he’d purchased to get the garishly bright shopping bag he’d carried the cameras in. He’d made sure the doll could see the name of the popular shop on the bag.

Every day at work, he would call up the camera feed from his house on his tablet. He’d set it up on its stand within his line of sight and it would comfort him to see the doll perched in its corner.

He hated the doll because he feared the doll. Because his only comfort was looking at that screen and knowing the doll was still there. Because he spent every night with the curtains drawn tight around his bed and his ears tuned for the tinkle of the "decorative" bells he’d sewn all around the hem.

He hated the doll. He feared the doll. His every moment and every thought had become … Read the rest “SHORT FIC: The Realness of Things #HarperWCK”

I make wishes on the stars all the time. It doesn't seem like a waste to me. Because in the forming of a wish--an idea--a concept of what can be is created. And until a wish is formulated, it's nothing but stardust and fantasy.