Freely Written: Short Stories From a Simple Prompt
Short stories spark your imagination. Join author Susan Quilty as she uses simple writing prompts to free-write her way into strange, silly, or poignant tales. Biweekly episodes offer new stories. To learn more about Susan and her books, visit SusanQuilty.com.Note: Prior to 2023, every 5th episode featured story commentary instead of a new story.
Freely Written: Short Stories From a Simple Prompt
Black Cat
In today's story, Black Cat, a coven gathers to discuss current events
Today's prompt was loosely inspired by Halloween and the fall season, which is often rushed through on our way to the winter holidays.
If you enjoy today's story, please share it with your friends and leave a review for Freely Written. You can also send me a prompt suggestion, and I'll be sure to credit you in the episode. Thank you!
More about Susan Quilty
Susan Quilty mainly writes novels, including two standalone novels and her current YA series: The Psychic Traveler Society. Susan's short stories for Freely Written are created during quick writing breaks and shared as a way to practice her narration skills before she dives into recording audio versions of her novels.
Website: SusanQuilty.com
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Below is the transcript for Season 1, Episode 127 of Freely Written, a podcast by author Susan Quilty:
Welcome to Freely Written where a simple prompt leads to a little unplanned fiction.
[Light piano music]
Hi, friends! I’m Susan Quilty and today’s prompt is Black Cat.
It’s the end of October, which means it’s time for stores to start selling Christmas décor. I swear that starts earlier every year. But before we are whisked into the winter holidays, I wanted to keep us in October with a Halloween theme.
There are a lot of images that come up when I think of Halloween. Along with the pumpkins and scarecrows, and witches and ghosts, I always picture a black cat framed by a full moon. So, it’s no wonder that was my choice for a Halloween themed prompt.
As always, I sat down to write this story armed only with my prompt. No planning. No editing. Simply writing whatever might come to mind and nudging those ideas into a story to share with you.
Sometimes these free-written stories come out better than expected. Other times, they are a bit… rough. The process is what matters, as it gives my imagination a chance to play without the meticulous planning that goes into my novels.
If you’d like to learn more about my novels, visit my website—SusanQuilty.com—or look me up by name—Susan Quilty—wherever you buy books. You can also suggest writing prompts through my website or by connecting with me through social media. Links are in the show notes.
And now, on to today’s story:
Black Cat
Edith stood on the sidewalk with her arms crossed and a contemplative frown on her face. All around her, shadows lengthened in the gloam, helped by tall buildings that blocked the last light from the setting sun. Foot traffic was light as nearby offices had largely emptied, their workers having hurried down the block toward bars with bright music and happy hour specials.
“A bit on the nose,” Edith remarked, without looking at the woman who had stopped beside her.
The newcomer followed Edith’s eyeline. Together, they studied the old wooden sign that read Black Cat beneath the picture of a black cat with its back arched and claws flexed.
“It’s dated,” her companion said, using a tone that implied more admiration than contempt.
“I suppose that’s enough to keep some away,” Edith allowed, knowing that this town thrived on hot new trends.
“She’ll have warded the place as well,” the woman said with a certainty that raised Edith’s hackles.
“Obviously.” Edith turned then, taking in the woman’s lightly lined face and ashen hair. There was something familiar about her, though Edith couldn’t place it.
“Are you new to town?”
The woman returned Edith’s assessing gaze before raising her eyebrow and mildly replying, “It’s been a while.”
When the woman seemed disinclined to say more, Edith turned back to the building and pulled open the Black Cat’s faded green door. If the woman wasn’t going to introduce herself, neither would Edith.
A bell jangled on a hook above the door as Edith swept across the threshold, leaving the other woman to close the door behind them. The bar was empty save for the young bartender stacking glasses for the few customers who would wander in throughout the night. He glanced at the women and tilted his head toward a hallway without a word.
Edith nodded in return and crossed silently to the hall, feeling the other woman shadowing her steps. They quickly passed the restrooms, moving directly to the door marked Employees Only. They were not employees, of course, but it was a simple way to cloak their meeting place.
Beyond that door, four women sat in plush chairs scattered around the room. Edith acknowledged them all with a benevolent nod. Virginia, Willow, Ravenna, and Winifred. Old friends she hadn’t seen in many years, though she suddenly found it hard to remember when she had last seen them or why it had been so long.
From the center of the room, Virginia unfolded her elegant limbs and gracefully moved toward them, saying, “Edith! Melissa! So good to see you both.”
Her open arms offered a welcoming embrace, but Edith held back, softly muttering, “Good to see you.”
Edith watched as Virginia wrapped her arms around Melissa, then pulled back enough for them to kiss each other’s cheeks. Melissa, Edith thought to herself. What kind of name is Melissa?
Setting aside her unexpected irritation, Edith offered simple greetings to the others before curling into an empty seat. Melissa took more time, moving from chair to chair as she clasped hands and leaned in for more cheek kissing.
When did they become so close? Edith wondered with annoyance. Am I the only one who hasn’t met this kiss-happy woman?
After several minutes, both Virginia and Melissa took their seats. Silence fell across the room. Edith glanced toward Melissa, waiting for Virginia to offer an introduction, but none was coming.
“As you all know,” Virginia began, “it has been sometime since we last gathered for an important cause.”
“The Dust Bowl,” Willow offered with a shudder. Winifred sadly added, “Vietnam.” Ravenna held up her glass, saying, “Prohibition.” Edith and Melissa remained silent.
“Dark times,” Virginia agreed with a shake of her head. “And here we are again, facing times that are in desperate need of an intervention.”
The women solemnly bowed their heads in honor of the work they would again have to do. Edith peeked at Melissa, still puzzled by her attendance and the kinship she seemed to have with everyone else there.
“We’ve let this one go on too long,” Virginia said as she lifted her head to begin the meeting in earnest. Two of the women agreed, saying they should have stepped in sooner. The other two argued that it was better to avoid meddling as long as possible. Edith held her tongue.
As the women continued to debate their responsibility and right to interfere, Edith used the time to study Melissa’s features. There was definitely something familiar about the slant of her eyes and the curve of her jaw, but just as Edith was about to draw up a memory, the connection slipped away.
“What do you think, Edith?”
With a start, Edith realized Melissa had turned to address her directly.
“Oh, me?” Embarrassed to be caught staring, Edith sat tall and said, “Perhaps we should be properly introduced before sharing our thoughts so freely.”
She expected her words to put the others in their place, especially Virginia who should have been sure introductions had been made before launching into the meeting. Instead, they stared at her with growing concern.
“Introductions?” Melissa echoed softly. “Do you think we haven’t met?”
Edith’s eyes jumped from one woman to the next before returning to Melissa’s worried face. A blanket of confusion wrapped around her thoughts. How do I know her? When did we meet? Did we have a falling out?
“Edith?” Virginia prodded gently, but Edith could only gape as she tried to make sense of their confusion. Either they knew something she didn’t, or something was very wrong.
“Oh, dear,” Willow said, “the cat has her tongue.”
“Well, then,” Virginia said briskly, “the cat shall give it back.”
“Wait…” Edith began to protest, then let the words fade away. Something was very wrong. There was only one answer. She was under a spell. Someone had taken Melissa from her memory, and she knew of only one way they might bring her memories back. Clearly, Virginia had the same idea.
Virginia crossed the room, then returned with a black cat that she placed in Edith’s trembling arms. If whoever cursed her had used the cat has her tongue spell, there was a chance they could break it with the help of another cat.
Melissa pulled over her chair and sat facing Edith. “Don’t worry,” she said soothingly, “we’ll sort this out.” Edith could only nod, finding it harder to speak with Melissa so close.
The other women formed a circle around them and linked hands.
“Black cat, dear to be crossed, draw from the shadows that which was lost.”
The coven began to chant, repeating their words as Edith ran her hands over the cat’s soft black fur. Lulled by the chanting and petting, the cat soon settled into her lap and began to purr.
“Black cat, dear to be crossed, draw from the shadows that which was lost.”
Listening to the purr, Edith felt a wave of memories wash through her mind. Each memory tied to a moment with Melissa. As children, skipping rope outside their schoolhouse. As teenagers, brewing their first love potions. As young women, dancing the Charleston. Memories that filled her with joy.
“You’re my sister!” Edith cried out, startling the cat so it jumped from her lap. “How could I forget my sister?”
Tears ran down their faces as Edith and Melissa embraced.
“I thought you were mad at me,” Melissa told her as they pulled apart. “I didn’t know you were under a spell.”
“Neither did I,” Edith said with wonder. “When did it happen?”
The other women looked at each other, their suspicions taking shape but compassion taking priority. They came closer and Edith stood, hugging them each in turn. Her heart melted a bit more with each embrace and she realized that it wasn’t only her sister that had been taken. There was a division that had set in. A distance that was slowly taking Edith away from the world she knew.
“It’s been a slow shift, I think,” Melissa answered uncertainly.
“Perhaps a dark spell widely cast,” Winifred suggested.
“A manifestation of these dark times,” Ravenna added.
“A way to sow disconnection,” Willow agreed, thinking beyond Edith and their own group.
“We’ll figure it out,” Virginia reassured. “Now that we’re back together.”
As they settled into their seats, Edith locked eyes with the black cat that had helped them break the spell. Thank you, she silently offered, feeling a lightness—a sense of hope—that she hadn’t felt in many years.
The End
Thanks for joining me today. What would you write about a black cat? If you have an idea, write about it! If you do, you can tell me about your story through social media or my website. Remember, links are in the show notes, or visit: SusanQuilty.com.
Until next time, try a little free writing of your own. Let go of any planning and see where your imagination takes you.
[Light piano music]