A short story about the word Iridescent (written by me, The Time Traveling Writer).
Little nine year old Joey laid back in the green and ticklish grass. His feet felt around the meadow ground for a softer patch, but the ground was all the same. Not too hard, but it didn’t feel soft enough. He brushed his inky black curls out of his eyes before sticking his hands behind his head. He enjoyed the view of the sky, and tried to make out what shapes and sizes all of the clouds were. If his older sister Janice were here, she’d be having Joey tell her what all the different clouds names were, and he hated it when she did that. Why can’t we just a joy the sunshine on our sky and the clouds in the sky like we’re supposed to. Joey sighed before noticed w certain chill run down his body. He looked up into the sky. But it rained yesterday, he thought sadly as he saw a cloud in the shape of Australia and about the size of his two story house cover the sun that had before been warming his sky. Then he noticed something. As if by magic, the cloud disappeared. Joey snapped his fingers and the sun completely blacked out, making no light for him to see anything. He sat up frantically and snapped his little fingers again. The sun reappeared. Joey looked around him before he looked back up at the sky. His house was still in eyesight behind him, and no one seemed to have noticed the complete black out of the sun. So Joey decided to keep playing with his new talent. He beloved he was someone who should use his talent for good. He would make t rain when the crops needed it, he would make it night when needed (but next time make it so in a much more natural way; a nice iridescent sunset perhaps), and he would always make rainbows. Joey then sat down and played with the sky and his talent until he noticed that he hasn’t begun making the sun set. He pressed his hand up to sky, palm first, and pretended to press the sun as if it were a button. He then dragged it down the sky until the sun was setting naturally. He wondered if he could put it on auto-pilot mode. He squinted at the sunset, envisioned what he wanted it to look like with time, and suddenly the sun began to set like it always does. And Joey started to walk home like he always did when the sun was setting. The sky was a mixture of violets, reds, blues, yellows, oranges, indigos, and even greens, to Joey’s pleasure. And so Joey walked home in the casting gaze of the red sunset, and nighttime began to eat away the daylight like a cat eats a fallen baby bird; slowly, carefully, and mercilessly.
I wrote this for @teawithellie ‘s Word of the Day Challenge (today’s word: Iridescent).
Thanks for reading.
Best of luck,
The Time Traveling Writer.