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The Word

Precipitate

Welcome to The Word! Either a story beginning, a story ending, a piece of flash fiction, a poem, painting, dance move—inspired by the word, precipitate, where does it take me? Where does it take you?

[ pri-sip-i-teyt ]

Verb

  1. To hasten the occurrence of; bring about prematurely, hastily, or suddenly: to precipitate an international crisis.

Let’s Write…

** Either a story beginning, a story ending, a piece of flash fiction, a poem, painting, dance move—inspired by the word, precipitate, where does it take me? Where does it take you?


My job is… not what you would think. You humans often think of angels, guardians, and the like as saviors, but we don’t really save or protect like you’d want to believe. What we do is accelerate things.

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The Word

Obstinate

[ AHB-stuh-nut ]

Adjective

  1. Perversely adhering to an opinion, purpose, or course in spite of reason, arguments, or persuasion.
  2. Not easily subdued, remedied, or removed.

Let’s Write…

** Either a story beginning, a story ending, a piece of flash fiction, a poem–inspired by the word, obstinate, where does it take me? Where does it take you?


“Where the hell are you taking us?” Bran said, looking through his human’s eyes to where he wanted to take him, and then towards the mayhem where they were actually going. 

 “I know you said we should turn back,” said Hart, “that we should run—but it doesn’t feel right.”

 Hart looked around his controls and pulled on a large blue lever, making their human push harder and run faster. Warning signals flashed with red lights around Hart—their human was fatigued. Hart ignored them.

 “Are you getting the same readings I’m getting up here?” Bran said. “He’s exhausted. I’m not sure how long he can keep up this pace.”

 “He’s got a little more left in him,” Hart said. “Focus on his breathing, Bran.”

 “Hart, I don’t understand,” Bran said…

… “Why are you doing this? We always go where I say. It’s how all the other bodies do it too.” Bran flicked a switch of his own, putting the human’s focus on his breathing none the less. Hart was giving him little choice.

 Hart spun around in his chair and cranked the heart-rate dial up two more notches. “I know, Bran, and I’m sorry, but there’s this feeling…” Hart turned to the mysterious orb that hung in his control room. The orb released an odd energy and filled Hart with a sensation that was urging him to take their human into the danger—against Bran’s insistence. 

 “A feeling?” Bran said. “Hart, you can’t even see! You can’t hear the terrible sounds, you can’t smell the burning in the air!”

 “I know, Bran,” Hart said, “but for some reason, we were designed so that I have the action controls. You see the world, and I followed where you thought we should go.” Hart looked to the strange orb he never understood before. “Now, I understand what my role is. You can gather all the information, Bran, and we’ll need that. But it’s my job to choose. You can complain, or you can help make this work.”

 Silence filled Hart’s control room for a heartbeat, and then Bran’s voice sounded, “Ok, turn right thirty degrees.”


Notes/Thoughts/Ideas

 What if our bodies were controlled by other beings in our brains and in our hearts? I thought it was a fun idea to run with. 

 For a story, a bigger story, I imagined this world where all the brains (Brans) are in control of the hearts (Harts). Yet, the hearts have the actual “controls” to take the human bodies where they want. Then, there’s this one body where the heart goes against the brain’s direction.

 That’s where this flash fiction came in—at that moment. The mysterious orb that Hart sees is intuition. We feel what’s right despite all our logic telling us to go the other way. 

 Basically, this was just a fun way to think about the differences between our heads and our hearts. I hope you enjoyed it!

What do you think of Obstinate?

 Lead with the head, or with the heart? 

Leave your thoughts, your own story beginning/ending, flash-fiction, or whatever in the comments! Where did obstinate or my story take you?

If you liked this idea, you may enjoy a similar idea with my short story, The Missing Sheriff.

Today’s word is from Merriam-Webster.

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The Word

Alienist

[ eyl-yuh-nist, ey-lee-uh- ]

Noun

  1. Psychiatrist

Let’s Write…

** Either a story beginning, a story ending, a piece of flash fiction, a poem–inspired by the word, alienist, where does it take me? Where does it take you?


What does it matter to them what I think? What I see or believe? I’m not preaching anything or trying to teach anything. It’s just a little confusing sometimes which reality I’m pulling memories from. 

 I’m walking down a trail in a park, Central Park in New York City. My hand is holding Sarah’s, the sun is bright, and she’s happy. What’s not to be happy about on a day like this? 

 “I love you,” she says, prompted by nothing. 

 I smile down to her, “I love you too.” 

 What a great day that was! Only when I bring up the memory to Sarah, she reminds me that we’ve never been to New York. She’s worried. It’s her dream to go to New York.

I look around Sarah’s art space, now a spare bedroom.

 “Sarah,” I call to her. “What happened to all your paintings? Did you put them in storage?” 

 She looks at me with a scolding glance. “Why would you say that? There’s no need to be mean.”

 I’m stunned. Mean? I was just curious. Then, it hits me. Sarah hadn’t picked up her paintbrush since her mom died eight years ago. Wrong life. Different Sarah. 

 A dozen mistakes like that, and I now sit surrounded by four plain white walls. People don’t like hearing about their hidden potential, apparently. Oh, well. It could be worse. Where shall I go next?

 I think I’ll go walk in Central Park again. Yes, that’s one of my favorite memories. 


Notes/Thoughts/Ideas

 There could be a really cool story here. Someone who’s able to see multiple dimensions, multiple lives of himself. Perhaps the ability extends to the lives of others as well. 

 What if the story started with this guy in a mental institution, and then we start going into all these past memories. Only towards the middle do we realize that all the memories are of different lives and worlds. That maybe he’s not crazy, but gifted. 

 The whole time we’re thinking we’re following memories that lead to his institutionalization, and in a way, it’s true. It just turns out that the reasons in “this reality” get revealed later. Like how Sarah hasn’t painted in eight years and so on. 

 We could throw in a threat or conflict of some kind where that gift of his becomes needed. Perhaps by knowing the potential lives of others, he can help solve a crime. 

 There’s an episode of Fringe like that. They use what they know about a man in one dimension to catch a killer in the other dimension. Love that show! There’s a cool twist in that episode, and I won’t spoil it : ) 

 As always… oh, the places we can go! 

What do you think of Alienist?

 Sound like a fun story to read? Is he crazy or gifted?

Leave your thoughts, your own story beginning/ending, flash-fiction, or whatever in the comments! Where did alienist or my story take you?

If you liked this, check out Ripples.

Today’s word is from Merriam-Webster.

Get THE WORD Every Day!

Enjoy a One-Minute Story, Learn a New Word, and Create With Me! Delivered to you every Tuesday and Thursday morning.