I know I didn't really update anything this week (I pulled around six thousand words out of my hat and spread them across too many different projects), so here's some irreverent, comedic flash fiction I randomly spewed on Discord.
Satan explains that the priest is in Tartarus for touching one too many children and forgetting to mention it during his last Confession.
More short fiction. Health's been absolutely abysmal this month, but I'll be back up to it tomorrow, I feel.
Not Safe For GhostOfHeraclitus warning, straight out.
There was a tribe that wandered the grasslands, where each member took their name when they had become an adult.
One child asked the wayfinders, one night, as they returned from stalking by the light of the full moon, if anyone had reached the moon, so high in the sky.
No, said one-who-sees-in-darkness. Never, said she-who-leaves-no-tracks.
"Then that will be my name. He-who-touched-the-moon"
There are many common depictions of the four horseman, Death, Pestilence, Conquest and Famine. They are nearly all wrong. Especially about the horses.
Death is not a tall, pale rider, though he is the youngest and the tallest of the four. Conquest is not a tall, brutish warrior-Prince, Pestilence is not a green man of oozing sores, and Famine is not skin stretched taut over a weak skeletal frame.
Ha ha ha it's end of semester, all my assessment is due, and I've been too headsick to really function for three weeks now, so it's all hit me at once.
The only real writing I've been doing is for assignments. But I'm actually kind of happy with this one, so I thought I'd share it. I am, in fact, still alive.
Dedicated to Scarlet Weather, the Katamari Ball of FimFiction relationships:
There is no mechanism in the body that tells you that you are suffocating from lack of oxygen. Oh, there’s the pressure of empty lungs, the feeling of having too much carbon dioxide in your blood… but if you breathe in an inert gas, you’ll die without realizing what actually happened, or even experience a delirious high. Helium, nitrous oxide, carbon monoxide. All downright pleasant ways to go.
This was written in a day and after many edit's here it is! It's imperfect and it's a little wonky with abrupt shift's in perspective but, I hope someone gets a kick out reading cause I am done with this piece...
-----Twilight gets her dream flank handed to her----
“We want to be parent's, again!” Her parent's screamed!
*What the buck...Shining's...gone and you want-to-to-*
She knew the heat of the sun and it’s touch through the roof, through the drywall.
I did not time myself this time. Though, I did write a first draft by hand. It was rather relaxing.
So, I here me go!
Her hooves pound the dance floor, her heart beat’s Vinyl’s song into her blood. Blood that is slog and the bog of the Everfree and she wonder’s then, if she can cast spell’s with her hooves…
Could I? And, for a moment she was there with AJ her hooves on her’s and-
So...I had another version that in my opinion... was even spicier but, oh, well...I also am experimenting with adding back story into my stories more...organically? Yes? Like I know I am great at vivid description and I have character voices and some good bones but, adding more to that can get confusing some times, you know? Like, if you already like what you write...how do you add more without ruining it? Also, transition's word's? Those are a thing? (I kidding!)
Nothing to report other ,then this was funner and found a cool title out of it!
Enjoy!
Title: He had knelled once.
“I will bleed you, Alicorn!”
Sin’s Field’s were aflame. Her Soldier's dead. The whiff of vomit and the last shit linger in the air. And, still he remained, Dawn raised in the blood-red glow of his magic.
Hey all! I made a new SombraShy group! Come and join. 
Now to the fic . . . (Note this is different headcanon then what I had in The Arbitrator. That was a one-time headcanon deal.)
“I need to find, Stacy….but...first…”
“Why did you go out there, Stacy!” The thought like that last zombie bite almost proved-
“-fatal ,Jackie! You do know what your father would say?!”
I hum at the memory of a accent- that faint thing of somewhere, some-when north, and south all wrapped up into one short woman with the sky in her hair.
Even among the bones of the here now I can smell, Chanel #5.
I got my first ten by Claude! I am starting to think it's not as difficult (at least in flash fiction?) to push for a ten from a nine. I have this weird block in writing longer paragraph's? Don't know...
Weird, huh?
This makes me want to write for other fandom's or play with more original character work! How is my ability in coming up with weird premises? Can I put my skill into long form? I think I can! Betcha thought I was gonna be all doubtful and such...
Nope!
Enjoy!
"Those blasted Iron demon's."
Gaze seeking the sole blood red tent across the stretch of no-man's land. Solitary though it seemed, Twilight Sparkle, could spy a faint shimmer in the air...that spoke of heat on a hot summer day. Rubbing a hoove along one arm she wondered as her eyes caught silver creatures that stretched far beyond the tent, beyond the gates and beyond the border itself...
"The captain better be ok...Or-" She swallowed then. "- I will kill her myself."
I had a good time with this one! Got a good score too. Didn't even have to work to hard...
Nothing to say other then, adding detail reduced my score. After review both...it mainly was because the story well, richer in detail and fleshing out other character's it losed the super tight focus on old Red.
So, here you go a super tight narrative piece on one of Red's troubled day's in his long life.
I was wondering how long it would take for anyone to give me a downvote. A little over 70 weeks after first publishing my story, but within just a couple of hours after publishing my newest chapter (which is actually the only new chapter since the initial publishing) and promoting it in a couple groups... 
Am I one of the "cool kids" now that I've been downvoted? 
This is a concept too strong not to tell, but not strong enough for me to make a story out of. Seems like here's the perfect place for it.
So here's what I'm thinking right: Rarity seems like a morning pony to me, after her coffee. High quality, fresh roasted beans, but honestly it could be printer ink at this point of the morning in the white gown and fluffy slippers and she has work to do. Her morning makeup regime, at the very least.
Being caught outside in a heatwave was like being without your lover when you needed them. You felt it everywhere, and there was no escape.
Two empty canteens were slung around Springa’s neck. Forty six more rested in either side of her saddlebag. The uneven ground and the sloshing water made every step murder on her back. Her shroud kept the sun off her fur, but it was slick with sweat and trapped sand against her skin.
I want to try exploring ideal and effective way’s to write fiction. It is pretty hard at times…
I think I need do the single sentence paragraph now because I really didn’t like some of my sentences yesterday!
Now...you may be wondering what is today’s short about well it’s about…
Twilight goes up a mountain in search of a relaxing day after Spikes comic books are destroyed after Tirek’s attack. Who's to say what she will find on slopes and valleys in the Iron Hoove Mountain Range…
I feel weird. Sometimes when I write-
I like it. Sometimes, I don't and that's mostly because I strive to write how I "should" write. Like most of the people I follow all write in fairly long sentences with even, more of narrow margin of fragmenting sentences then I do...
I like what I write but, I haven't been writing very long...
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