Fog, Psychedelic, Ascend

3 things to inspire 1 story written in 20 minutes. #story320
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Believe it or not his name was Sheth like someone drunk trying to say Seth. His parents told the nurse at the hospital this name, Sheth, they said. The nurse began to write Seth but the father suspected this would happen and corrected him right away.

Taking off his glasses and wiping them, Sheth’s father chuckled and said, “Our Shon’sh name is sheth, you she, he’sh shpecial.”

Then Sheth’s father began to recount his psychedelic tale, which wasn’t at all psychedelic.

“You shee,” Sheth’s father continued. “Sheth comes from a long line of family membersh who have lifted their conshioushneshesh above the fog. They’ve ashcended.”

What Sheth’s father should have said was that one time at a concert his parents had taken LSD (or LShD) and wandered off the grounds of the event into a small shish-kabob restaurant.

Sheth’s great grandparents were named Sarah and Samuel, however, Sam was a mute and Sarah had a lisp. Her children were named Shamshon, Shyril, Chrish, and Shteven.

Chrish begat Sheth’s father, Shtan.

Sarah, the matriarch of the family never corrected her children with the lisp, she thought it was cute that they copied her own lisp.

When she named her children, god only knows why she chose names with S’s, the nurses took down the names she said exactly as she said them.

So Shtan, father of Sheth now stood proudly defending the one thing that made their family truly unique, a lisp passed down from generation to generation.

“we’re not sho different you and I,” continued Shtan to the nurse. “It’sh jusht that my family refushesh to adhere to shoshietal normsh. we proudly shay all the wordsh.”

The nurse had to interrupt.

“I’m sorry Shtan, but I’m being paged. I need to go but to be clear your son’s name is Sheth, S-H-E-T-H, correct?”

Shtan feeling a deep sense of pride at becoming a new father and excited that the nurse recognized their proud family tradition, tried to convey how he was feeling.

It came across as an awkward display of winks, thumbs and slow nodding’s of the head.

The nurse left and before the door closed Shtan heard him say–

“Can you believe the names of this family? Sheth? Shtan?” Then laughter

Shtan thought to himself, shshit.

Fire, Water, Plant

3 things to inspire 1 story written in 20 minutes. #story320
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The scene was hazy, so I tried to determine which elements were present.

I looked down but could only see, well, I couldn’t see past my belly. I shifted my weight just enough to feel something solid.


My lungs weren’t burning and I could feel that familiar habit of inhalation and exhalation. It was automatic. I couldn’t remember a thing but I was breathing. Air was present.

I looked down at my belly again, focusing on something dancing, a shadow bouncing around the rim of my umbilical cord. The shadow was orange and red.

I looked up and saw the source of the orange on my belly. I curled my hands around the cord protruding from my stomach and used it to pull myself toward the slit.

A deep red, orange, yellow wind brushed past my face.

I started to panic as the safety of my darkness was slowly eaten away by the colors.

Now I could see greens and browns leaping out behind the reds, oranges and yellows. I tried to retreat to the safety of the darkness but a weight pressed down on my existence. An apocalypse of my cocoon.

My hands suddenly forced to my sides my nose smashed against the walls of my home. My head bubbling in different directions.

Suddenly my being floated and my world of black exploded into a million pieces of light and color. I floated, my lungs burning. My eyes squeezed tight but the light still stabbing through.

The force accelerated my floating and I burst into an alien atmosphere. My face and body melting, my hands tried to curl around the cord at my belly button but nothing was left.

In shock my mouth sent a scream and all my senses came to life.

I was born.