Panda Bear by J.S. Douglas

It’s been a couple of weeks since I last posted, and I am posting on an unusual day because…. drum roll…. I finished the first draft of my next novel! Hurrah!

The story I’ve just completed is a Lovecraftian fairytale told from Prince Charming’s point of view. I will be writing a series of these stories, and the first few books will come out in mid-2023. I’m just working my butt off to get them all written and to do all the marketing crap… I mean stuff… that self-published authors have to do.

Anyway, I’m very pleased to have finished my first book in the series. The working title is The Cthulu Fairy Tales Book 1: Prince Charmant and Lady Elle. If you want to stay up-to-date on my progress and get sneak peeks as well as early, free access to book 1, be sure to subscribe to my newsletter. I will probably also eventually offer some merch because my cover artist did an AMAZING job. The visuals are so badass. You’ll hear about that in my newsletter, too.

I enjoyed writing it, and I’m raring to edit. But I said I would write and release prompt-driven short stories every Tuesday, and I’m behind here, so this week you will get two stories!

Here’s the first one. I didn’t title it; it’s a very short glimpse into a post-apocalyptic world.

Prompt: Panda bear from my friend, Ryan.

Panda Bear

by J.S. Douglas

The stuffed animal was beyond well-loved. It was scraggly. Its dust-grey arm dragged along the ground, only attached to the body by a few threads. The once-white and black face was now the uniform gray of dirt. 

A small hand held one frayed black paw. The hand was sunburned and thin, the skin dry as a grandmother’s.

The little girl dragging the stuffed panda bear walked slowly, stumbling through thick clouds of gray dust accentuated by harsh sunlight. Her deep brown eyes no longer tracked the sparkles caused by the sun hitting dust at just the right angle. Instead, her entire body focused on one thing. The thing her chapped lips mouthed but could no longer say.

Water.

As she expressed the unspoken imperative, she continued her tripping, stumbling journey through the desolation. Her blank, exhausted mind could no longer determine how far away the crouching metal waystation was, but like a human dousing rod, she always angled toward the building. Everything inside her screamed that it contained water, and she used instinct to guide her through the ruined landscape to her salvation.

The End

I hope you enjoyed the story! It may have been inspired by Not a Drop to Drink by Mindy McGinnis. I read that book ages ago, and being from southern California - a place where there have been droughts pretty much since I was born - it’s always haunted me. It’s one reason why I love living in the Pacific Northwest. There is so much water here it’s a bit mind-boggling.

Anyway, see you on Tuesday for another short story!