Everyone seems to have different rules they set for themselves, so your mileage may vary. Personally, I set a hard word count limit. Usually 300, but this time I decided to bump it to 700. I pay careful attention to how much time I spend writing, and then editing.
I also solicit writing prompts on @pseudo_size, and pick whichever speaks to me, and seems to fit the form. On that subject, thanks to Emmet (@HThereBeG1) for the following suggestion:
Write Time: 40 minutes
Edit Time: 25 minutes
Words: 700
Tags: Passive-aggressiveness, shitty roommates, criminal acts, growth, shrinking, female muscle growth, pulp
Master Plan
“Hey Gabrielle, can we talk?”
“Um, j-just a minute!” came the reply, but her door wasn’t
latched, and my gentle knock had already sent it swinging open.
Gabby sat at her writer’s desk, facing away from me. Shoulders tight, body rigid. Practically frozen with fear. I almost abandoned my plan to talk to her
right there. I avoid confrontation, as a
general rule. And Gabby was such a
mousy, timid girl—new to the city, liable to flinch at any unexpected loud
noise. It would be much easier to leave
her alone.
No. Good fences make
good neighbors, and all that. Anyway I
couldn’t afford to let another roommate walk all over me.
“So um, I noticed you were eating my food. Again.
It’s cool, you know? As long as
you ask first. But I just bought those
two giant boxes of Cheezits like, yesterday?
I’m unemployed right now, Gabby.
Money’s tight.”
She nodded slowly, still facing the wall. “Yeah, I’ll… replace them. Sorry about that.”
“No worries. Hey and
ah, I think some of your laundry got mixed up in mine?” I held up the sports bra so Gabby could see,
but she didn’t look at it. “It’s kind of
weird though. Maybe you had a guest over,
that I didn’t know about? This thing is
WAY too big for you. Like… WAY too
big. Plus, it’s torn all to shreds. See?”
She didn’t turn. “Oh. I meant to get rid of that thing. Would you mind throwing it out for me?”
I frowned, fought down a wave of irritation, decided it
wasn’t worth picking a fight. “Yeah, no
problem. Just remember, you’re supposed
to give me a heads up when you invite people over. Oh by the way, totally no hurry on this, no
big deal, but you said you were going to fix the back door….”
“What? Oh I
completely forgot about that. As soon as
I figure out my money troubles.”
I couldn’t hold back my sigh of exasperation. “Gabrielle.
Come on, it’s been almost a month!
I don’t know how you managed to slam the door hard enough to crack the
frame like that. But if the super sees
it, we’re never getting out deposit back!
This is a BIG problem.”
Silence.
I was getting really annoyed now. “Can you at least LOOK at me while I’m
talking to you?”
Gabrielle sighed. And
slowly, she wheeled around in her chair.
I’d never seen her without her cute Indie-girl glasses before. She looked really different. Oddly familiar. That smirk, especially that smirk….
I gasped, and tried to back out of the room.
“Something the matter, dear?” She gave me an evil grin, and stood to
follow.
“You—I’ve seen you on the news! You’re… you’re Gargantuella!”
“Drat. And you’ve
cornered me in my lair, without my impenetrable disguise.”
Her smile was growing.
So was she. Her cozy woolen
sweater, rising to expose her toned midriff.
Her sweat pants, struggling to contain her swelling thighs. Her arms bulking, expanding, into the
cartoonish physique I’d seen plastered on every newspaper and super market
rag.
“But… but… you just robbed the Second International Bank. How do you have money troubles?”
She gave me a playful wink, brushed past me as she continued
to swell into immensity, opened the drawer of her bedside table. Between the tips of two giant fingers, she
pinched something, held it out to me.
A burlap bag, with a dollar sign on the front. The perfect size, for a little dollhouse bank
robber.
“So,” she mused, ducking to keep her head from hitting the
ceiling. “There are still a few kinks to
work out in my master plan. But perhaps
I’ve said too much. Now, the matter of
what to do with YOU.”
I tried to flee from the hulking giantess, but she only
laughed, and caught me by the back of my shirt.
“You’re still looking for work, aren’t you? You’re in luck. I’m in need of a henchman.” She gave me a B minus super villain
laugh.
Already I could feel my clothes getting baggy, the room
growing around me as I shrank.
“Yes. I think I have
just the position for you.”
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