July's Jawdroppers

Updated: Aug 25

VSS365 is a Twitter challenge to write a 'Very Short Story' within the 280 characters of a tweet and using a specific daily word prompt.


Some days I don't have time, but then I try to incorporate the word into the next day instead.

Find them on my Twitter. Sometimes I post them on Buy Me A Coffee as well.


These are my favorite writes from July.


15 stories with prompts:

prompts, stories, reparations, refined, beoynd, clear, persona, dynamite, pleasure, miss, technology, butter, illegal, Farewell, coincidence, art, comfort



It’s our life. Our identity.

From the darkest parts of our minds to the wildest dream.

From silly prompts to our hopes.

To what we fear and want we wish for.

Our soul lives in our words.

We tell stories.

And we really hope you like them.

I broke your heart, so I do my best to mend it.

I apply kisses, whispers of affection.

It doesn't work. It bleeds through my fingers.

I stitch it together instead.

My reparations complete; I hope you can move on.

Your dead eyes stare at me. I failed you again.

In the wake of night

Monsters crawl

Fingers of refined dark

Take my hand

Sleep, they whisper

Fear not the night

In our bed of shadows

You dream of stars

"This is beoynd my skill. I'll call the hospital."

"But it's real!" she yells after him.

"Told you he wouldn't believe you." The fairy sits on her shoulder. "So what will you do?"

"I'll come with you."

She opens the book and dives into the pages, never to be seen again.

Her mind was set. The path clear in front of her: Murder was the only solution.

She sighed deeply, cracked her fingers, and prepared for the forthcoming mess.

With a faint smile, she sat down by her computer and started to write.

Blood poured from every word.

I've been writing and writing but something doesn't fit.

The persona of my protagonist isn't right.

'Write what you know', I've always been told.

But I don't know.

I weigh the dynamite in hand and give the building a long look.

Now I will know.

"I'm sorry, hon," you moan.

"Don't worry, sweety. You'll feel better tomorrow."

"You take so good care of me."

"It's my pleasure."

I kiss your cheek as you fall into feverish sleep.

I add a drop of the medicine to your glass.

Just enough to have you sick again tomorrow.

I asked her why she'd come with me.

"You miss the shots you don't take." She smiled.

I couldn't agree more.

Luckily I brought several bullets.

Dad never took me hunting but in the desert, a running target is good practice.

She screams when the first shot misses her head.

When the technology came, I was the first to try it.

A simple implant and I was able to control my sleep.

No more insomnia. No more restless nights and early mornings.

Finally, I was able to get the rest I needed!

It's been 37 years, and I've yet to wake up.

"I don't understand." I stare defeated at grandma's perfect pancake flip.

"I've used your recipe but mine never taste like yours. What's the secret?"

Grandma smirks and places the pancake on my platter.

"Love." She winks and adds a huge chunk of butter to the pan.



His hand slips down my neck. I lean into his touch.

"We can't. It's illegal." I barely moan.

His lips are already breaking the law. Soft and demanding, they caress my skin.

"Then I'll change the laws." His breath is warm in my ear.

"Can you?"

"I can raise hell for you."

"Farewell sir knight!"

"Fear not, princess, I'll find your father and get your hand in marriage."

He rides into the sunset.

She shakes her head and goes to the cabinet.

The man's bloodshot eyes stare up in fear.

"Alright dad, it's time we talked about the marriage laws."

The door was left open

It was a mistake

Mom screamed when the shadows started to wake.

Living in heaven always sounded nice

But when living in hell, you close your doors

and you close them tight.

She saw the ambulance drive away the next morning.

It was a coincidence. Nothing more.

"Look, it's the brat from the corner!" The bully's hands shove hard on her shoulders. Asphalt scrapes her knees.

"Drop dead!" She glares at the large boy.

His eyes roll as he falls.

It took you a lifetime, but you've perfected your craft.

The brush of your palm paints a cheek rosa.

The color of your words adds shadows to the mind.

I'm in awe at your work of art.

So fragile and broken.

You call it a love story, but it reads like horror.

They say to let go

but I know you and I

will be together forever

you're part of my mind


You live in my heart

you're the stars at night

you whisper to me

in the fog of daylight


I find comfort in dawn

I know you're there

in the rays of sun

that touch my hair

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