Hoist the devil by his own petard.

As you all (my imaginary friends) know by now I joined up on WattPad.  Nope, still don’t quite know what to do with it but I’m slowly easing my way in.  Totally by accident I found a writing contest for a chance to win a writing/editing session with Holly Black via phone or Skype.  Yes, please.  What’s below is what I ended up posting as my entry and I have to say I’m rather proud of it.

Flash is hard for me because I’m an overwriter and I don’t often belabor word choice to such a degree that flash requires you to do. I had a 150 word maximum count to come in under and seeing that 151 in my Word document made me want to pull out my hair. But I did it.  Slowly but surely.  Never mind that this idea actually kept me up for two hours last night.  Never mind it literally took me all day to sit and stew over 150 words to make sure they were organized in the prettiest way possible.  NEVER MIND THAT.

The prompt was ‘a deal with the devil’ and I knew I wanted to do something different with it. I basically wanted to hoist the devil by its own petard and when I was sloshing around ideas the name Pandora kept popping into my head. Of course I know the story but there was something else there nagging at me to look a little deeper. I couldn’t tell you what that THING was but I just KNEW that I had to look a little closer at the Pandora story.  So I did.  And my brain blew up a little.

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Stoppered in an earthen jar at the crossroads of the world, a creature writhed in chaos.

Until a maiden trod down the lane.

A tendril slithered out and wrapped its need around her heart, whispered promises in her ear.

She obeyed and released ruin into the world.

Her eyes lifted skyward, a wry smile on her lips, while the creature escaped and crushed its prison beneath its foot.

It tried to speak but she cast her eyes upon it, gazing darkness found only in the chasms of the jar, and its tongue would not work. She flicked her wrist and the creature fell to its knees.

“Prove to me you’re real,” it eventually said and she caressed a finger down its cheek, a queen gracing her supplicant with salvation.

“What do I call you?” it asked, reverence thick on its tongue.

“Pandora,” she said, and chaos coiled in her hand.

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