2023 Story Prompts

He still felt the ache, the loss of those who he'd held so dear. He'd thought that making the choice for them, rather than letting someone who didn't care do it, would make it hurt less. Maybe it had, for his precious honey bees, but for him....

But it still wasn't the murder the mostly-quieted mushrooms craved. There was very little sustenance in the body of a bee.

He'd moved closer to Mead, trying to find some work he could do. He didn't have many talents except to learn quickly and be kind, and he hadn't been there long before the fogs came down. The blissful fog, which told him that he'd never even left his home, that his sisters weren't missing and his parent was found again. He didn't hear voices or find mushrooms growing behind his ears. It was peaceful, it was perfect, and yet... he was still lonely.

Once the monster was defeated, he'd attempted to find connections again. He'd never really been one to drink, but he'd heard that people frequently enjoyed visiting the pubs. With much of the alcohol gone, so were his opportunities at connection, at least in these ways. He was careful not to tell himself that he preferred it that way, that it meant that he wasn't the one who was failing, but merely someone who had failure thrust in his lap.

He worried for the bees, though. It was never their fault that some people turned out to be monsters.