Microdosing Fiction - 100mg of an Aurora
Write 100 words based on the word: AURORA
Our prompt for today is AURORA
Write a story in 100 words!
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The doors slammed behind Johnny, and the cold bit into his bare arms; scrubs didn’t offer much cold protection. A lungful of smoke slid off his lips, clearing out the tension on his chest.
The deep, dark sky consumed him. Was it night again? Or has it never ended? All the hours in the delivery room clouded his memories of daylight.
The doors opened again.
“You did it, sir. They’re both stable. The mother wished you would name the girl.”
Johnny’s eyes trailed the streaks of purple and green seeping through the infinite veil of darkness.
“Aurora,” he whispered.
Dealer’s note: I had this story in drafts for quite some time. I hope you’ll enjoy it! Also sorry for not making the Batch this week. I got sick over the week, and I was battling a killing headache yesterday, that barely allowed me to work on anything. Anyway thanks for writing with me!
To do at least a mini-batch I wanted to shoutout
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Taking Out The Dark
The lights came first in ribbons, like someone was unspooling silk scarves across the sky. I'd dragged the garbage out wearing only my thermal shirt, the cold biting into my bones the way winter always does, the way my mind does when the darkness stretches too long. But there they were - green and purple waves dancing above my head, making the snow glow alien-strange. The solitude above felt different than my own. I sat down right there in the driveway, garbage forgotten, and let Aurora paint my tears iridescent. For once, the darkness had brought me something besides itself.
My catch-up poem with 8 prompt words:
Desert Electric
_____
The endless Las Vegas sky stretches pale,
a sheet of copper above the valley,
while my phone battery drains to red
between casino and subdivision.
.
I remember coming home that morning,
when the Strip's aurora of neon
painted purple promises across the desert,
man-made twilight in a champagne sky.
.
You said we were soulmates once,
back when summer meant hiding indoors,
truth shimmering like a mirage—
before we learned about necessary lies.
.
Now I sit in my garage and exhale,
watching heat waves dance above asphalt,
while automatic sprinklers tick like slots,
keeping desert-adapted roses alive.
.
The days here power themselves,
like those LED billboards on Tropicana
that shine brighter and brighter
until dawn swallows them whole.
.
And still, each night, I drive home
through this electric dance of light,
wondering if you too are awake,
measuring infinity in neon green.