Choose at random a song by one of your favourite artists and write a story based on its chorus.
I chose the band, chose the album, then had my lovely guy choose a number between 1-11; this gave me the song: 'Speed of Life'. Decided to keep it to 300 words cause I love flash fiction...
Television warnings from the night before blared in Lu’s head—Category 4…landfall tomorrow. She went to the window, recalling that someone had once said you could see a hurricane off shore by the colour of the horizon. But the sky was clear, no sign of anything. She decided to go ahead with her plan, a long awaited photo shoot at the sanctuary.
Walking to her car, Lu glanced into the perfect sky. Don’t wanna waste a Saturday, she thought, shifting her seat and turning the key. Over the Bay, the sun dazzled, water rocking steadily beneath the bridge. On the island, toll booths were boarded up, plywood nailed over glass. No one around to take her money.
Where the road dead-ended she arranged herself quietly under the canopy of mangroves. For awhile, the air was still, until the crackle of beating wings, the cawing of young pelicans. One after the other, they unfolded, huge and downy, a display of brown and cream, lifting off through leaves. The weatherman was wrong, she mused. Long after she capped her lens, she stayed, watched them return to their nests. Dusk had settled in by the time she merged onto the freeway home.
At her front porch, something was wrong: roof tiles littered the lawn, screen door askew, ferns and hibiscus bushes gone. She crept up the steps, turned the lock. Something inside the house heaved forward. A rush of water as the door frame split with the weight of twigs, books, clothes, a clot of something thick, like black rope. Lu tried to step aside but there was nowhere to go. Slimy water sloshed over her feet, the ropes twisting and coiling now round her ankles. Lengths and lengths of them uncurled around her, their small forked tongues darting out to taste the aftermath of storm.