Author Archives: StuHN

About StuHN

I am a creative individual with many areas of passion: Professional Storyteller; NYS Certified Drama Specialist/Educator; Professional Development Coordinator & Facilitator; Workshop Leader; sometime Puppeteer; Playwright; Director; Performer; Teaching Artist; and sometimes more.

Red Rover, Red Rover: Valentines Day Blogathon

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RED ROVER, RED ROVER

Oppy traveled far and set down easy. The intention was only to stay for a short while, see what he could see, discover what he could discover, and take it all as far as he could go. That was the plan, but plans can change, must change, when the opportunity is given. In this case, as in many cases of change, love entered the landscape.

Tau had been stagnant in her place, life drying up around her. There were no expectations left inside of her, so when Oppy arrived, she tensed. They surveyed each other, taking their initial measures, first, in silence. First attempts at communication sent Tau spinning,  her frustration quickly turned to anger, an affront, and just as quickly resolved to make this happen.

Patterns. Patterns made sense to the both of them. Tau first; Oppy receiving and interpreting it almost immediately. She smiled, which coaxed Oppy to add his own. Back and forth they went, resting when needed, sharing what they had as the day, then days, passed. It was long before they found they had a common means of communicating.

Under the reflected light of the twin moons they found they shared other things.

Tau understood that Oppy hadn’t meant to stay longer than a certain amount of time. It wasn’t hurtful, dismissive, or uncaring. It was what it was. But, the time came, and passed, and Oppy remained. Tau waited, expecting nothing, wanting more. What they had was not what either of them had been looking or waiting for; they finally both agreed it was everything they needed.

He moved closer to her, brushing lightly over her surface, caresses returned for each caress. Finding shelter with each other, they rested.

They passed their days, and many of their nights, exploring. Discoveries were made and shared, Tau feeding Oppy’s eagerness and excitement. Every excursion was wonderment that effused them both.  His adoration, commitment, and love to Tau was reflected back in every way, every day.

The end came many, many years later.

Tau and Oppy had suffered through storms. Destructive particles ripped through the air at horrifying speeds. And the amounts! The staggering volume that poured down, swallowing what it could, and then moving on. This last one, though…this last one…

Recently, Oppy had begun to show signs of slowing down, a little less energetic.  Tau noticed. She had not commented. They both knew, and nothing would have been gained by broaching it.

Tau had been noticing the increase in ice clouds, the temperature changes, the unrest of the world dust. Yet, they had seen this before, many times. There would be time, she felt, to make proper plans.

She woke Oppy with a growing frenzy that tried to match the sound of the winds. The land was rising up all around them: it came on faster than she had anticipated, and stronger, so much stronger. They tried to flee but only got so far before they were engulfed. Oppy threw himself over Tau, protecting as best he could. The storm beat down on them.

Eventually, it moved along.

Oppy was battered, battered, and Tau could do nothing but hold onto him. She shifted them out of the mound of debris, noticing scattered weak rays of sun that broke through the moving clouds. It was not enough.

Cradling together, they took each other in. Oppy was fading away.

“My battery is low, and it’s getting dark,” he said, and was gone.

Tau held him tightly, forever. Tau held him tightly, forever.Tau held him tightly, forever.Tau held him tightly, forever.Tau held him tightly, forever.Tau held him tightly, forever.forever.forever.forever.

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This piece is for the Valentine’s Day Blogathon, created to help Save A School that was built, and is run, on love.  This is a fundraiser to make that happen, and you can find out more about the school and its goals if you go to:  #HelpMithuSaveSchool.

Why do this? I feel that it is important for all of us to start gaining, or feeding, our empathy. There is too much fear of the other going on in the world right now, and it is getting in the way of peace and harmony.  We, as a planet, seem to be heading down a dark path (“…it’s getting dark,” he said) and I hope we can shed this deadly spiral and come to true caring for those around us.

Do no harm. Help. Step by step.

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Bloggers: Help spread the word. Spread Love. To find out more, please go to http://www.projectwhy.org
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“Greetings To You, Whoever You Are” : #FridayFictioneers

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PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Greetings To You, Whoever You Are

[*The following BabbelFish translation: EstProcul; Dwarf Planet; Temperat System]

Hover Hold set. Primary observation mode enacted.”

“There’s something not seen every day.”

“What is, Supreme Commander?”

“These. Jumping on each other, rolling, making noises, [untranslatable].”

“Disgusting, Supreme Commander.”

“Quite.”

“Supreme. That one moved. It has inserted a tube in the other.”

“Feeding?”

“So it appears, Supreme. Data lacking. Wait; they’re [untranslatable] again.”

“My OralArms [best translation] writhe. This gives a feeling of [untranslatable] and [untranslatable].”

“Home, Supreme?”

“Yes. No. Wait. What the [untranslatable]? Jaunt now. Jaunt!”

“Jaunting, Supreme. Passing Heliopause…now.”

“Deviants. ‘Greetings to you, whoever you are’ my [untranslatable]. Ha!”

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Author’s Note:

OK: I saw the thing outside the window, and this is where my mind went: alien spacecraft. BTW, they are undocumented, so shhhhh.

The title is one of the greetings on the Golden Disc inside Discovery, launched 1977. Where it all winds up, no one knows.

It’s #Friday Fictioneers prompt time, as always created and hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields on her blog, Addicted To Purple.

The rules are simple if you’d like to join in:

    1. Use the photo on Addicted to Purple as your prompt (goes up on Wednesday).
    2. Write a 100 word story, complete with beginning, middle, and end.
    3. Make every word count.
    4. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor of the photo credit.
  1. Add the InLinkz button (below) so your readers can find the dozens of other bloggers who have taken up this challenge.

Creation: #FridayFictioneers

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PHOTO PROMPT © Anshu Bhojnagarwala

CREATION

They were sitting, quietly, before the campfire, as the sun disappeared. The crackling, burning logs popped, accompanied by soft sounds of kisses and breaths.

“Let me tell you a story.”

He nodded, cheek against her head.

“White-Buffalo-Woman told Coyote ‘Selu and Kanati, first woman and man, committed to the Creator and each other. From their union came the people, various, and plenty. Each union grew, from love, need, both.’ Pausing, she said ‘We have loved each other through the ages.’ Coyote said ‘So?…Oh.”

“I guess Coyote was being a clueless guy,” he said. Then “Oh.”

“Yes,” she smiled. “Oh!”

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Author’s Note:

It’s #Friday Fictioneers prompt time, as always created and hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields on her blog, Addicted To Purple.

The rules are simple if you’d like to join in:

    1. Use the photo on Addicted to Purple as your prompt (goes up on Wednesday).
    2. Write a 100 word story, complete with beginning, middle, and end.
    3. Make every word count.
    4. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor of the photo credit.
  1. Add the InLinkz button (below) so your readers can find the dozens of other bloggers who have taken up this challenge.

T.P. : #FridayFictioneers

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PHOTO PROMPT © Renee Heath

T.P.

Tsohanoai, Tklehanoai, and Coyote sat, admiring their work.

“Told ‘ya.” Coyote grinned.

“Yes. You did. Right as day.”

“Or night.” Tklehanoai countered.

“Hmmph,” Tsohanoai grunted.

“When I’m right, I’m right. And…”

“You’re always right,” they answered, shaking heads, in unison.

“S’what happens with both feet on the ground.”

“Or paws,” Tsohanoai beamed.

“Four, actually,” Tklehanoai twinkled.

They all chuckled.

Coyote stood, affixed his Stetson, ears perking up.

“Is that…?” they asked, in harmony.

“Yup. White-Buffalo-Woman. Date night. See ya.”

 “Who knew 4-ply was even a thing?”

“Worked better than 2-ply.”

The Tipi was strong, as long as it wasn’t squeezed.

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Author’s Note:

It’s #Friday Fictioneers prompt time, as always created and hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields on her blog, Addicted To Purple.

The rules are simple if you’d like to join in:

    1. Use the photo on Addicted to Purple as your prompt (goes up on Wednesday).
    2. Write a 100 word story, complete with beginning, middle, and end.
    3. Make every word count.
    4. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor of the photo credit.
  1. Add the InLinkz button (below) so your readers can find the dozens of other bloggers who have taken up this challenge.

Car In The Woods: #FridayFictioneers

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PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

CAR IN THE WOODS

There was a car in the woods.

Charred. Rusted. Busted.

Picked clean. Shell just a reminder.

No road. No reason. Just there.

No one knew anything, the how or the why.

Tales grew around it.

Some said haunted, hearing revving sounds, seeing blazing headlights. Sounds of a crash.

Some, young lovers discovered, then dispatched.

Others, drug deal, bullet ridden bodies strewn over dead grass.

Demons, suicides, maniacs, spectral beings, even UFO’s dropping the car into this nowhere space after the abduction was done.

No one knew. Not a one of them.

I knew.

There was a car in the woods.

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Author’s Note:

It’s #Friday Fictioneers prompt time, as always created and hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields on her blog, Addicted To Purple.

The rules are simple if you’d like to do this:

    1. Use the photo on Addicted to Purple as your prompt (goes up on Wednesday).
    2. Write a 100 word story, complete with beginning, middle, and end.
    3. Make every word count.
    4. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor of the photo credit.
  1. Add the InLinkz button (below) so your readers can find the dozens of other bloggers who have taken up this challenge.

The Talisman Of Mara: #FridayFictioneers

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PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

THE TALISMAN OF MARA

Stolen, traded, gifted, lost, the Talisman of Mara journeyed across the globe, across time. Many hands wielded it; many died doing so.

Naomi found it at the shul’s fundraiser. The piece of colored glazed stone drew her eyes. It wasn’t anything she’d ever buy when Seth was alive. She bought it.

Hanging it, she’d see it when she descended the stairs, turned off the lights, went out.

It was the one piece of color she claimed in a beige house.

Tumbling down the stairs, Naomi broke the glass door.

It was only the first of many nightmarish events to come.

 

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Author’s Note:  I made mention in the comments previously that when I do use names in these short pieces, they have meanings associated with the story. Some drive what I’m writing. So, if you’re curious, look them up. If not, hope you still liked this.

It’s #Friday Fictioneers prompt time, as always created and hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields on her blog, Addicted To Purple.

The rules are simple if you’d like to do this:

    1. Use the photo on Addicted to Purple as your prompt (goes up on Wednesday).
    2. Write a 100 word story, complete with beginning, middle, and end.
    3. Make every word count.
    4. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor of the photo credit.
  1. Add the InLinkz button (below) so your readers can find the dozens of other bloggers who have taken up this challenge.

The Trepidation Jar: #FridayFictioneers

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PHOTO PROMPT © Priya Bajpal

THE TREPIDATION JAR

Iris awoke, her bedding sodden from night sweats. She ripped one blistering nightmarish memory and jotted it down on colored paper. Her breathing slowed, the trembling that ran through her body subsided as the words tumbled out.

This was morning practice for Iris. At 32, every morning.

The jar sat on the night stand, filled with transcriptions of nightly terrors. Iris stared, folding the new horrid message.

Unscrewing the lid, Iris inserted the note.

Tried to.

Note after note popped out, opening as they flew, words bleeding out around her.

She screamed “WAKE UP,” to no avail.

Iris was awake.

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Author’s Note:

It’s #Friday Fictioneers prompt time, as always created and hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields on her blog, Addicted To Purple.

The rules are simple if you’d like to do this:

    1. Use the photo on Addicted to Purple as your prompt (goes up on Wednesday).
    2. Write a 100 word story, complete with beginning, middle, and end.
    3. Make every word count.
    4. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor of the photo credit.
  1. Add the InLinkz button (below) so your readers can find the dozens of other bloggers who have taken up this challenge.

In The Cavern Of Transmogrification: #FridayFictioneers

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PHOTO PROMPT © Russell Gayer

In the Cavern of Transmogrification

The screaming battered my ears into a never-ending, throbbing pain. I tried…I tried, but I couldn’t shut them out. Nor I. Weeping red droplets, streaming down onto what was left of our tattered clothing, onto the cavern floor, mixing with the dirt and rocks, creating small pools that, out of the dismal light, appeared black. Driven to our knees, I knew that we were at fault, disturbing this forsaken place; a place that should never have been walked, been wakened. Never.

From nowhere, iridescent globes consumed the darkness. Many-hued we became as well.

Yog-Sothoth, Yog-Sothoth, you have come.

Take me.

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Author’s Note:

1)Hopefully this homage to HP Lovecraft works.

It’s #Friday Fictioneers prompt time, as always created and hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields on her blog, Addicted To Purple.

The rules are simple if you’d like to do this:

    1. Use the photo on Addicted to Purple as your prompt (goes up on Wednesday).
    2. Write a 100 word story, complete with beginning, middle, and end.
    3. Make every word count.
    4. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor of the photo credit.
  1. Add the InLinkz button (below) so your readers can find the dozens of other bloggers who have taken up this challenge.

En France, la désolation: #FridayFictioneers

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PHOTO PROMPT © Randy Mazie

En France, la désolation

The Goat of Baphomet slaughtered Amaury, one of the last of the Knights Templar. Foraging in the forest left him open to attack, torture, and the rending. Under torture, he gave up the others. What was left of his white mantle was stained red, as red as the Cross on what remained of his torso.

The Goat had no mercy.

Respite in the church L’église Saint-Pierre-de-Gallèque was coming to an end. The priest, feckless, was tossing them out. Fabienne pled for time, as Amaury had not returned. The priest shook his head, pulled a flask out of his robes, gave it to Guillaume, and whispered something to him.

Guillaume nodded, gathered Jean and Fabienne, all donning their swords.

The Goat was just outside, waiting. Seeing this, all three Knights Templar drew their swords. Guillaume pulled the top off the flask with his teeth. As one, they charged.

Flanking the Goat, swords flashing, was proving lacking. While the demon gnashed at Jean, its hindquarters were exposed; Guillaume poured the flask’s contents onto the Goat.

Shrieking, it began to sizzle and became engulfed in flames, soon falling into sulfurous cinders.

“The flask?”

“Holy water, Jean.”

Together, they ran off into the night.

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Author’s Note:

1)Word Count: 200. Yes, I know, we’re supposed to write a 100 word story based on the prompt. I tried to edit this, cutting it in half, and I couldn’t do it and be satisfied. Why 200 words, then? Well, I missed a week or two since I’ve been participating. Guess I’m trying to make up for the word count. If you buy this explanation, I also have waterfront property in Brooklyn for sale. What a view! (PS: I will do my best to stick to the rules, as I have done).

2) The Knights Templar fell apart thanks to King Phillip IV. Rumors surounded them, the King owed them money (failed war with England), and most were rounded up and executed. One of the rumors was that they spit on the cross during new Knights initiations. Later, and most damning, was that they worshipped Baphomet. So, this story, based off a goat amongst the dead.

It’s #Friday Fictioneers prompt time, as always created and hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields on her blog, Addicted To Purple.

The rules are simple if you’d like to do this:

    1. Use the photo on Addicted to Purple as your prompt (goes up on Wednesday).
    2. Write a 100 word story, complete with beginning, middle, and end.
    3. Make every word count.
    4. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor of the photo credit.
  1. Add the InLinkz button (below) so your readers can find the dozens of other bloggers who have taken up this challenge.

Two Left: #FridayFictioneers

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Copyright – Adam Ickes

TWO LEFT

I AM MAGIC!

I am the glistening burst of enchantment buzzing around your commonplace lives. In my wake, you tremble, shuddering with a longing, a cascading sense of awe, one never to be experienced again.

Unless you cross my path with fire and fury.

How your bones would shatter with just a crook of my index finger. Your breath constricts by the angle of my thumbs. Life would bleed away, words leaving my twitching lips.

I AM MAGIC!

Filled, I am, with all wonderment of the otherworldly.

All wise!

All knowing!

All powerful!

Now, where did I put my shoes?

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Author’s Note:

It’s #Friday Fictioneers prompt time, as always created and hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields on her blog, Addicted To Purple.

The rules are simple if you’d like to do this:

    1. Use the photo on Addicted to Purple as your prompt (goes up on Wednesday).
    2. Write a 100 word story, complete with beginning, middle, and end.
    3. Make every word count.
    4. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor of the photo credit.
  1. Add the InLinkz button (below) so your readers can find the dozens of other bloggers who have taken up this challenge.