Flash Fiction: Something from nothing.

      Static flashed upon the screen, as the sound of gentle breathing faded into the scratchy electronic shriek. Nestling into the gently rising-and-falling chest beneath her head, the young girl squeezed her living pillow tightly in her sleep, just as a crocheted blanket slipped haphazardly from her shoulders. Shivering ever so slightly, she barely felt a pair of arms wrapping firmly, but gently around her, pulling her closer into the soft, warm body below. Stirring but briefly, the dreamer simply nuzzled deeper into her lover's chest, as a pair of lips sleepily pressed against her pillow.
      Just beyond the dusty window pane, the thick clouds of night rolled and flashed, thunderously bellowing for the coming storm. Soon, the gentle sound of rain filled the air, mingling with the static and the swoons of dreams, as smiles slid onto slumbering lips...

Scribble: You can blame this on "Storm Coming."

      Running atop raindrops, the sleek machine kept a single glowing eye upon the horizon, an azure star streaking across the night sky. Long, slender antennae bobbed with each footfall, as powerful legs became nothing more than a silver blur shimmering beneath the moon. Puddles exploded in the runner's wake, the comet bounding over fallen trees and stones without second thought.
      There's little time, the runner thought, leaping into the air across a small cleft in the forest floor. Hope I'm not too late...

Scribble: Steam rising from chai not yet brewed.

      Nights were getting warmer, so she thought, perched upon the railing as she was. Sweet and spicy fumes snaked into her nostrils, as muscles in her mouth worked at a smile. "Sure," she thought aloud, as a single drop of rain kissed her forehead, "now you gotta come out and wreck this moment..."
      Retreating through the open window, the young one struggled to climb off the kitchen counter, careful not to spill a drop on the way down. Why the hell the fire escape was put there, she could never understand, but she knew that so long as it was there, no skirt would be her friend.
      "Well," she cooed, leaning on the faded white laminate while fumes floated carefree, "at least the rain's still beautiful..."
      Taking a long sip, the youth couldn't help but smile, as her thoughts turned to daydreams that would fill a thousand novels...