I did want to do something neon-flecked and dystopian with this one but today the word wanted something different. It happens.

The prompt was static.

I love the way I yearn - Unromantically, Hungrily. I set aside what no longer touches me. An inventory of hauntings Promises, some regret Grief wrapped in roses Faded photographs I turn my back and close the door. Because yearning is real: Perhaps love is not.

The prompt was yearn

a blue light is shining on a person and the words help us hoeve-kenobie you 're our only hope ALT: a blue light is shining on a person and the words help us hoeve-kenobie you 're our only hope

Tagging @marywyrd.bsky.social because I know you've got no VPN for DMs.
Need to snag you about Wednesday.

I always liked this one. Probably why my MMCs are wholesome :D
And not horror!

I'll not tag moots. It's a free for all, if you want to :D

We shall have to bully him till he does :D

He's super good!

Why, thank you very much! I think you just made my evening :D

I do like to depart with a sting :D

The prompt host gave us befuddle.
I promised you horror. I considered a doll first, a demonic one. And then I went dissociation. You're welcome.

Are you keen on me? for the seeing You, finding me and not looking away. Are you keen on me? for the building; bricks, beams, a gritted tooth: I’ll bring the fire, you bring the recipe. Are you keen on me? for what lasts... floors of compassion, time holding us up when we can’t. Are you keen on me? when we become water when what we were is only direction for those who follow. Are you keen on me? when the light goes soft and you turn, just as you always would, and say, come, drift with me.

The prompt host gave us keen.
And I considered to keen, and a banshee, but then the word reminded me of a poem I wrote years and years ago, called Will You: and it was about love and the quantum sea.
So I rewrote it.
The usual horror recommences tomorrow.

He bowed low in a flourish. “Allow me to introduce myself,” he said, like I hadn’t been walking towards this moment since the very first wrong turn. I took his paw gently. “I already know you,” I said and just as I said it the teacups marched together across the tablecloth and the trees split in two

Our prompt host gave us introduce. I added Alice.

The farm remembers every name we gave the animals and which ones we stopped using the night the knives came out. We held them still We said thank you We learned how quickly a name becomes meat.

The VSS prompt host gave us a farm. Did I go all joys of spring and lovely little lambs? Of course. And then I brought the knives.

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I tend to only feel lonely when I have the loss of purpose, or the lack of a dream of some kind, however small. I'm quite comfortable in my own company, because being lonely in a crowd is far more debilitating for me.
Physical touch helps. Small things. Being intentional, to you.

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I use isolation a lot: but not just in horror. When I wrote The Dust Collector (dystopian sci-fi, horror adjacent), Darius was entirely alone out in the desert.
The setting is a character almost, and the lizard he calls Mister. Not a talking one. Just a lizard. Make it stark.

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Grief. Nobody understands it. Even if you've gone through something similar. And the anger, the resentment, when others are just living life, and not caring, is overwhelming.
It's an emotion that can really change a person. Not always for the better.

Greetings folks, I be Eryn, I write psychological and supernatural horror.
Isolation. I actually can't think of something now. I know I've seen shows where there's literally just one person, but now I can't think of a single one. Sixth Sense perhaps. Full of people but they were all ghosts, mainly.

As soon as I read the prompt word boon, I heard the words, a boon, a boon for your... and it gnawed at me all morning.
So now we get to inject some horror and hand it back, I suppose.

He gave me surfeit. I had to go Midas. I don't know why. I just did.

The prompt was arrow. I added a doomed Cupid and sent it back.

The prompt was canticle, which I had to look up. And then I added dread and a dystopian nightmare, because why not.

The prompt was handle. I added loneliness and some existential doubt.

Gree, this has been among my favorite thematic questions for #HorrorWritersChat yet! Thank you!

Plugging someone else today: did you know ace horror & eco horror often intersect? @beyondtstarspress.bsky.social is an ace press debuting with this new cozy horror anthology! 👁️

bsky.app/profile/beyo...

I think imprisonment is a primal fear. Being trapped, helpless, lost in the dark, or completely dependent on, or at the mercy of someone, who might not have your best interests in mind, with no way out, is so scary. And then you have your mind racing in dark places.

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Sounds like something for the bucket list. My bathroom is heinous.

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For me, being locked in your own head is THE most terrifying thing, even more than actual physical imprisonment. In prison, there is still community, and some occasional respite, kindness.
In your own head? No such thing.

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Goooddddddddddddd evening Horror Writers!

I be Eryn, I write psychological and supernatural horror, and my favourite imprisonment concept is all in the mind.

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Snippet from Bear My Heart: Maybe now, when she goes back to Elmen, when her grandmother is using the remedy to ease the ache of her joints, she’ll remember me. She’ll remember the Mountain and the magic it holds, and, perhaps in a way, neither it, nor I, will ever be truly lost. Underneath snippet is ebook cover, green background with a bear silhouette in the middle, mountains within it. Text: April 9th 2026. Bear My Heart. A cozy sapphic novella.

💜🐻 8 Days to Release 🐻💜
A quote a day

Bear My Heart is a wholesome and emotional aro/ace saphhic romance novella with neuro-spice and a focus on mental health.

Read more: www.karenlykkebo.com/daughtersofd...
Pre-order available in some stores: books2read.com/karenlykkebo

📚💙

Wednesday is not enough.

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That was a cool prompt.
I added ice-cream, pastels and horror.