Day 2, Part 1: Thunder

Mama always said that if there's a crash of thunder and then lightning, you can tell how far away the storm is. If the lightning takes a while, it's far away. If the lightning happens right away, you are basically in the storm. She told me this, I think, to help me not be scared of storms. Instead I would obsessively count the seconds between thunder and lightning. One...two...three...CRASH. One...two...CRASH. 

That night, there was no time between the thunder and the lightning. They happened at the same time, as the rain pounded our house, sneaking its way through our windows and roof, dripping on the kitchen floor, splashing on the window sill in my bedroom. No towels could stop the sound of the drip, drip, dripping. It didn't matter because I couldn't sleep through the thunder anyway. I knew that the storm was right above us, and I couldn't even count to one before the sky lit up, showing the bare trees next door. 

Day 1, Part 3: Prompt

 A star falls in a family's backyard. Only it's not a star but a very friendly alien.

"Michael, do you hear that?" 

"Hear what?" Michael says, removing his headphones and looking at me with the disdain only a brother can have for a sister. "Oh. Shit. That's loud!"

We both get up from our respective spots in the living room and run to the window at the front of the house, flinging open the curtains that we keep closed all the time so our yappy dog can't look outside to find more things to yap yap yap yap about. 

"Ummm. Are...we about to die?" I ask Michael, partly serious, partly joking because why would a meteor be flying towards us right now? There has to be a logical explanation! 

"It's so bright...is it a meteor? Is it...is it coming right at us?!" Michael asks me, getting louder and near yelling by the end of his speaking. Locking eyes, we run to the front door, swinging it open and running on to the front porch. 

It is blindingly bright and it really, truly, seems to be barreling directly towards us. "Mikey, I really think we need to go into the basement. Like now!" I grab his arm and start pulling him and he reluctantly follows me into the house, slamming the front door behind him as we run to the basement stairs. 

As we reach the basement, I hear a scratch at the basement door. "Shit. Frida!"Just as quickly as I realized I had left our poor dog up in the living room, we hear a thunderous crash. I breathe in sharply and stare at Michael's wide eyes, then immediately run back up the stairs. Throwing the door open, I see Frida is cowering under one of the kitchen bar stools, but as soon as she sees me she gallops towards me, whining. 

"It's okay, girl. I've got you...shhhh." I say, rubbing Frida's head and scratching behind her ears

"Shit. Laurel? You've got to see this." 

Michael is already out on the front porch, but all I can see is his silhouette. In front of him is our front yard, usually a perfectly manicured lawn with rose bushes along the eastern side and my mom's prize winning vegetable garden on the west, but all I can see is a ball, bright white, pulsating, with a perfect dent below it where it had landed. 

Before I can speak to Michael, the ball dims, and begins to change shape. First it grows, gaining height more than width, then getting a little more square on top. Michael and I are silently staring at the glowing...thing in front of us. As it continues to pulsate, the light continues to dim, and soon the shape can only be described as humanoid. 

"Is...it can't be. Can it?" I whisper, inching closer to Michael but fearful of being too loud or moving quickly. 

Before he can answer, the humanoid figure continues morphing, growing two lower limbs, and what must be an eye at the top of its slightly rounded but square head. The eye looks at us, then looks around in a big circle, and the pulsing light appears to finally stop, revealing a light blue iridescent color. It has two legs, two arms, a middle round section, and a mostly square head with one single eye. 

It lifts an arm and waves at us, revealing a mouth in addition to three fingers on each hand. "Hi," it says. 

Day 1, Part 2: Prompt

 Write from the perspective of a mouse in a cupboard.

I smell something over there. Ooh, it's a crumb! Oh, it's a lot crumbs! This is the best day I've ever experienced in my entire life! This crumb tastes like the sweetest, softest, most delicious morsel of food I can imagine existing in the world. 

Oh, wait, what's over there? SALT. Spicy, I don't like this. 

Aha! Another spot in this corner, oh, and a hole? Wait, this is delicious, too. And a little sticky so I get to lick it up. What's through here, though? It smells different. It smells lighter, less dusty. I see more light through this hole...should I see what's on the other side? 

I can juuuuust barely squeeze through and as I fall, and fall, and fall, I wonder if what's below is going to be worth the fall when I had so many crumbs, and so much stickiness, up in the dark, before I saw the hole. 

It's bright. SO bright, and BIG! There is stuff everywhere, and I freeze as a giant comes towards me making very loud noises. 

Day 1, Part 1: Peaches

She always said the peaches where she grew up were better. Juicier. Sweeter. More flavorful. It wasn't a point of contention, but she did get frustrated when I regularly sighed and clearly didn't believe her. The first time she brought me home to her family was terrifying. 

Her father is a pastor, her mother a teacher at the local christian elementary school. Her older brother married right out of college and already had a gaggle of girls, much to their parents' excitement and joy. When she told her parents she was bringing someone home from graduate school they were apparently thrilled at the prospect: their little girl was finally in a serious relationship. Maybe they would get more grandchildren yet! 

When I walked in the door, I immediately knew something was wrong. Her parents looked shocked, confused, and hurt by my presense. She never told them I was a woman.