time to fly

The tinkering noises coming from Navem’s workshop were only rivaled in intensity and frequency by the accompany curses and groans.  He’d spent three days locked in a manic state of development.  His house guests had spent those three days nervously pacing outside his door, burying their heads under their pillows when they tried to sleep, and growing largely irritated by the never-ending stream of noise.

During a rare pause, Grace and Arlen cautiously approached the door.  Grace leaned in to press her ear against the wood to see if she could hear what was going on, and in a whisper Arlen asked, “What’s he building in there?”

Without pulling her ear from the door, Grace shrugged her shoulders.  “He’s never been at it this long before.  Usually Navem gives up after a day.  He’s full of good ideas he just doesn’t know how to make them come to life.”

Arlen grinned as he remembered Navem’s last attempted creation: a car that could run on vegetable scraps.  The would-be inventor had spent a whole day taking apart the engine of his truck only to realize he knew nothing about combustion engines.  He’d ended up having to get the truck towed to a mechanic to put everything back together.

Suddenly, the door flew open.  Grace stumbled and nearly fell into the room as Navem rushed passed his two roommates.

“I’ve done it!”

“What have you done?” Arlen asked the back of the retreating figure sprinting down the hall.

“Was he smiling?”  Steadying herself against the door-frame and straightening up, Grace turned to watch Navem disappear as he turned out of the hall into the garage.

“If you consider grinning from ear-to-ear as smiling…”

“What does that mean?”

“I have no idea.”

Grace and Arlen locked eyes and grimaced.  The implications of Navem having finally succeeded in building something useful hung in the air like an anvil hanging from a thread.  They were both waiting for that thread to snap and the anvil to come crashing down on their heads.  They flinched when Navem, stilling grinning like a mad man, came flying back into their view from the garage.

“You’ve got to see this!”

The two roommates exchanged another very concerned look and grudgingly made their way down to where Navem was standing.

“What did you ma-make?”  Grace couldn’t keep a slight tremor out of her voice.

Navem exuded pride, he beamed with happiness, he was exultant as he answered, “I made a kite.”


Word Count: 411

Another week, and I’ve come up with another silly submission for the Inspiration Monday writing prompt:


The Rules

There are none. Read the prompts, get inspired, write something. No word count minimum or maximum. You don’t have to include the exact prompt in your piece, and you can interpret the prompt(s) any way you like.


No really; I need rules!

Okay; write 200-500 words on the prompt of your choice. You may either use the prompt as the title of your piece or work it into the body of your piece. You must complete it before 6 pm CST on the Monday following this post.

The Prompts:


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