The Hatter

The Hatter by Chris Hall lunasonline
‘1920s Hat Shop Girl’ (photographer unknown)

She makes hats for a living. Every kind of hat, for every kind of occasion. Very special hats.

She’s famous in the town for her hats and what her hats can do. You see, she’s a crafter of dreams, a bringer of good fortune and her hats are enchanted.

They bring you health and wealth and happiness. But there’s a catch. You must pay her your dues.  And once she’s caught you in her net, there’s nothing you can do.

Try to speak out against her? Denounce her actions?

Better not. Not if you want a long and happy life.

Woman scorned no more

woman no longer scorned by chris hall lunasonline

She holds the golden sphere in the palm of her hand. It glows, warm with all that remains of him. She has him now, resting in the palm of her hand. His soul, trapped. He in her power; not she in his.

Revenge is sweet, she thinks.

She curls her fingers and feels the sphere pulsate. She turns and walks the few steps to the bridge. Leaning on the rail, she watches the greasy, grey river flow beneath her.

She tosses the sphere in the air and catches it. Tosses again; lets it fall.

Goodbye traitorous heart, she whispers.


Written in response to The Aether Prompt: May 22nd, 2019

Fury

Superpower by Chris Hall lunasonline

Sandra’s superpowers had come as a surprise. Caused by a faulty connection in her washing machine, the freak accident had dumped her on the floor. She’d felt rather odd after that, sending out electric shocks at the most inopportune moments. It was only when she’d touched the interactive display at the mall and the whole panel had exploded that she’d realised their potential.

So many wrongs which need righting, it was hard to know where to start; but the people who had rejected her writing were at the top of her list.

Hell hath no fury like an author scorned.


Written in response to The Haunted Wordsmith’s Prompt May 13, 2019

No Pressure, Writer!

genre writing challenge lunasonline No Pressure Writer by chris hall

I watch the time countdown on my screen. My shift is about to start. I run my fingers over the keyboard. I’m ready.

The workload has been increasing. So far I’m keeping up. The monitoring is continual. From the moment you are woken until the lights and screens are turned off: when to shower, when to eat, when to take a break.

It’s all about production, efficiency, the bottom line.

Clock in, clock off, clock out. Thank you for your contribution.

At least I’m only writing ‘soapies’ to entertain the masses. Imagine the pressure if I was doing something crucial.


100 word story written in response to Teresa, The Haunted Wordsmith’s Genre Writing Challenge April 16: Technological Horror