vignette

[marycatelli]

This week's prompt is:
straight

Anyone can join, with a 50-word creative fiction vignette in the comments. Your vignette does not have to include the prompt term.

Comments

[marycatelli]

A corridor lay ahead of them. On and on, without a twist or turn, or doors, and vanishing only with distance.
"That can not possibly fit," said Gormain. "It could not even fit on the outermost level."
Carolus snorted. "It can fit. It's just a painting that's a step in."

[marycatelli]

He flew straight toward her. And she could not bear it, not now. She lifted her hand and shoved the labyrinth toward him. For a moment, she could see that invisible tangle of ways, so that no path was straight, not even for a minute.
He flew through it easily.

[jbellinger]

There's been a time or two I could have used a spare labyrinth like that.

[marycatelli]

Streets were easier. She could go straight on many of them, and even the twisting ones that people from the circle cities called quaint were straight-forward. In the forest, she had no way to tell whether a gap between trees led anywhere, except if she could pick out stars ahead.

[jbellinger]

" 'All the points x where the distance from A to x plus the distance from x to B is equal to the distance from A to B are in a straight line.' That seems banal."

"Heh. Let A be the North Pole and B the South."

"Um… Very funny."

[marycatelli]

A stone stood there. It looked like an altar. The dogmen headed for it without hesitation or any swerving of path. Then they slung him on it and grabbed his arms and legs as other dogmen scrabbled for chains.
The stone felt colder than it should have on his back.

[jbellinger]

Alec began to wonder if the straightness of the road was an illusion. Had they been walking in circles all along?

If he asked Olivia she would probably take it as a criticism of her glamour finding, and he remembered her last explosions very bitterly. Let _her_ bring it up.

[jbellinger]

The ropes binding him to the post seemed to flex like a python, the sword looked like a proposition from Euclid, the sun shimmered like running water, and nothing seemed to move.

He wondered if he had gone mad, or if the execution were done already and he was dead.