On Top of the World

This was a picture prompt responses=. I know people typically go romantic at the top of the Ferris Wheel, and I decided to go another direction. This is the story of Georgia who decides to deliver the bad news at during the 2 minute romance stop. My first attempt at this was a 1200-word story, that will not take place on a Ferris Wheel. Far too much back story in that one.

I palmed operator 20$ as I passed, quietly asking to be stopped at the top on our second spin for 2 minutes. I got on the Ferris Wheel beside my boyfriend, and the ride started to spin.

“Georgia,” He started, and I cringed, hating the sound of my full name as I always had. “I love you, and I have loved you for a long time,”

Oh no, he couldn’t possibly be this cliché. I tuned him out as I looked down at the near empty fairground, and steadied myself for what was coming.

The ride shuddered to a stop, and I put a finger to his lips to silence him. I had this timed down to the second, and it was my turn to speak.

“Jordan. I am sorry, but it’s over. I know that we have been together a long time, but I don’t see a future here. I told you I wanted to wait five years to get married, that I don’t want kids, and you don’t respect that.”

I deviated as I continued. “The fact you are holding a ring right now tells me that you don’t respect my choices, and the fact you think you can romance me into saying yes, well you don’t really know me at all, do you? I don’t see the point of dragging this out, so this is goodbye.”

The ride glided to a halt at the bottom, and I got off, running before Jordan could follow.

It was over.


I wrote this after re-watching the second season of The Umbrella Academy again, and was focused on the idea of “The Prophet” and a cult. In season 2 Klaus ‘accidentally’ starts a cult, and I went another direction, deliberately starting a cult for the money and having it turn into something more. This is what I got.

What I started was not a cult! It was an alternative spiritual group, and I will be the first to admit that I started it for the money.

I grew up in a household so fiercely religious, that when I turned 18 I ran and never looked back. Then the money ran out. I took odd jobs, and quickly realized that I could talk my way into a lot more than most people really should have given me.

By 28 I had a rap sheet, and I wanted to try something new, so when I took a free seminar on spirituality, I realized I could do this. I could be this. A few days at the library had given me a rough idea of what I would need, from then on it was just word of mouth.

I changed my looks, grabbed some crystals, and the next seminar I went to, I went from attendee to leader as those around me ate up my act. The key, was telling them I wanted nothing. The more I let out little tidbits and denied compensation the more they chomped at the bit to give it to me. I restricted their access to me, they started tracking me down. I sold my empty one bedroom loft as a life free from material burden.

They started begging me to take their material goods, to use it to benefit them, to un-tether them from their earthly goods. I was reluctant, but I took all their money, and put it back into promotional materials, staff, a facility. There were people who did this, launched alternative health shit, and they were right on board helping me sell the image of the prophet and I just sat back and chilled. My following grew in droves, and the more there were, the less I saw most of them, it made them think it was real.

When I went global, shit got weird. The “prophecies” I gave, they started coming true, and when they did, the devotion exploded, and thats the moment I realized I had fucked up. I was staring at a glowy dude welcoming me to the pantheon, holding half a morning glory muffin.

“Congratulations David, on your ascension! It has been many years since one of your kind has undergone the transition.”

“The what now?” I asked, what the fuck was this dude on.

“The transition to godhood. You have spread your word, gathered devotion, and when you sparked, you fanned the flame rather than snuff it out. Gave prophecy to help guide the life of the lower beings. You are now one of us.”

What the fuck was in that muffin. LSD? The guy was starting to look a little pissed, and I was a lot of things, but a fighter wasn’t one of them. Ok David, you can do this, this is your jam, diffuse the tension. I threw a huge grin on my face.

“Dude, that’s great. I, uh, am sorry about being so weird about all this, I just didn’t expect it to, uh, happen so fast, you know?” Smooth David, that was real smooth.

It did seem to have placated the large glowy dude. “Ah, I can see where that might be a bit of a surprise to you. It was rather a quick transition, you are ready to abandon your mortal life?” He kind of asked, well, it wasn’t exactly a question if you know what I mean.

“Uh, ya, as I said, it was a bit of a surprise, is there, um?” I was stalling, first to admit it.

The glowy man heaved a great sigh and it felt like the ground shook. “Fourty Eight hours is the most that can be given. At the end of which, you will shed the last of your mortal coil, whether you join the pantheon or the afterlife, it’s up to you.”

I could still here his voice echo for minutes after he was gone. I threw out the muffin, never eating worshiper muffins again. Worst trip Ever!

I knew it wasn’t real, it couldn’t be real, that none of it was real, and I held onto that for the first 24 hours. That was when I legit turned water to wine, and either I was a god, or I had had a psychotic break, and I didn’t know what was more terrifying.

So I started putting my affairs in order, and had three different people ask if I was depressed. It was hard to explain why a perfectly healthy person puts their affairs in order, but what was I gonna say, ascension to godhood. They would put me in the nut-house…or they would believe me, and both options were pretty bad.

I made it 44 hours before one of my “worshippers” over heard me talking to myself about ascension. I spent my last 4 hours on the mortal plain locked in my office, with my oak desk barricading the door.

I managed to down half the bottle of scotch, when I heard the voice. “It is time” And I went with it.

It felt like I was on fire, the whole room glowed, like I was a fucking a bomb, and then, then I wasn’t, and yet I was.

I was there, and everywhere, all at once. I could see my followers pushing away the desk, and then falling prostrate on the ground when they found my windowless office empty.

I could feel them, the power swelling within me as they began to pray, and as my last shred of prior self was burned out of me, I had had this thought. This is so not how I thought it would end.


The word of the week is SIN, and this is the direction my mind went.  Follow the story of Lottie, who feels like she is being punished for her sins, and must repents, because after all, that’s the only option….or is it?

Lottie sobbed as she looked down at her ruined clothing, knowing that the blood wouldn’t come out, and that there wouldn’t be any new clothes until Christmas.

It was her own fault, her own sin of pride that had made this happen, and the bloodstains she would be forced to wear would be just as much a punishment as the bleeding.

If she was honest with herself, and she should be if she wanted to repent, there had been quite a bit of envy, wrath, and greed that had led to this as well, to the day of her reckoning.

She should have known better than to try and leave her place, to rise above the station she was granted, but she had always thought that she could do better, be better, if she tried.

Maybe she should add sloth to the list, as her mother was always telling her she was lazy, that she wasn’t doing enough, and that if she just applied herself she would excel, but it seemed she never got there.

There was a part of her that felt guilt for her trespasses, but there was another part, a deeper, darker part, that looked out at all those people laughing, giving her mocking or pitying looks, and felt a smouldering rage that with each incident was being fanned up into a fire that could consume them all, or maybe just her, but only time would tell which way it would go.

Lottie’s story doesn’t end here, do you want to know more? Head on over to Part Two

A Dream Realized

This is a response to The Writer’s Mess’s weekly Friday Picture prompt which I was going to post Monday, when I realized something was already scheduled for Monday… Read along about the story of a young Mermaid finding her way to the forbidden surface, and not quite finding what she expected…

She closed her eyes against the intensity of the light, the pain of not water flowing into them only registering seconds later.

She opened them again slower, blinking away the stinging this not water gave. She couldn’t look directly at the sun, it burned her eyes, even as it dimmed late in the day.

Now that she could focus she looked around, quickly, eyes darting.  She knew she couldn’t stay long, not without risking being caught in the above.

The law was swift, the penalty would be harsh, but she had risked it, her need to know greater than her fear of punishment.

She circled again, and then again, and with a growing sense of disappointment she realized that this was it.

The sun was not the shape she had known, but other than that there was nothing.  The colors of the not water were muted, the most vibrant as dull as dead reef.

The surface of the water was flatter than expected, and everywhere else there was nothing, not a plant or animal in sight…

She looked around for a few more minutes, desperate, and then she allowed herself to sink back into the water, slowly heading for home.

When she returned to her school on Monday, her friends were dismayed to hear of the vast nothingness that was above, and she wished more than anything that she hadn’t looked.  That she hadn’t destroyed the dream of above with reality, and now she had to live with it.