MetaFic

My recent attempts to write have only been partially successful, due in part to my ideas requiring more chapters than I'm capable of delivering at the moment. I've looked around at various sites where prompts are regularly posted and found none that appeal to me. So I'm asking for help. Yes, I'm asking for prompts from the good folk of Metafic. Of course, being Metafic, they will not be of the same ilk as found elsewhere and will be capable of twisting my brain into areas never fully explored before. They can be AU, cliche, whatever.

Top three reasons why I like Metafic:
1. People here aren't stupid.
2. People here don't assume that I'm stupid.
3. When I post a comment like this, a reasonable portion of people who read it will know what I mean. Which is not quite the same as #1.

Ahh. I feel better now.

By the end of her second week without Harry, Ginny could barely remember feeling alert or happy or warm.  She stumbled from lesson to lesson, guided primarily by Hermione’s hand on her arm or Ron’s tall presence at her side.  In the evenings, she tried to revise, but she inevitably ended up staring blankly at a book or a piece of parchment until it was late enough to go to bed.

August 11, 2028

“Please go in, Mr. and Mrs. Potter.  The Minister is waiting.”

Oh?

“Thank you, Miss Brocklehurst.”

Alex pulled open the heavy wooden doors and entered the office of the Minister for Magic.  The room had changed over the decades, but it still carried an air of authority and a hint of mystery.

I bought a new fan for one of our PCs. It has the wonderful 'Intel approved board push pins' for fitting rather than the screws the old one had. I can't get it to fit and no one will tell me whether they are supposed to fit in ye olde screw holes. I've linked the fan below. Any one able to help?

Thanks

http://www.maplin.co.uk/Module.aspx?ModuleNo=47982&C=Froogle&U=47982&T=M...

Visions of the Apocalypse : Fractured Reality

“I hate this place.”

“I don't believe you, of course,” he replied calmly. The bitterness of her voice was nothing compared to what it had been only one month before, but it was still ringing in the room. “You hate the situation you find yourself in, but not this place.”

Most of you know I'm on medication for depression. It’s helpful, after all, I haven't thought about harming myself for a while now. But it has its downsides. Some of them are the medical side-effects, the worst of which is feeling sick. The others are harder to define, but essentially they narrow the range of my emotions, great for stopping you falling into a deep dark pit, but the highs go as well. In short, life is grey, a dull monotonous grey.

Poor Mrs Potter, or, in my nightmares Mrs Weasley Potter.

I can cope with endless descriptions of that 'flowery scent'. I can, with a few perscitpion drugs, accept the 'hex first, ask questions later' temper. What I find unacceptable is the 'if I can't have Harry, I'm going to hook up with A New Dark Lord/someone who treats me like dirt because I'm so desperate/etc.

Ginny is a smart woman, after all, its why Harry loves her, right? So why does she lack any common sense in chosing partners? /rant.

I just saw a news snippet that Lucy Vodden died yesterday (Monday) at the age of 46. Just an ordinary person who unfortunately suffered from Lupus and didn't live an ordinary life. Those of us at this site, of a certain age, will be interested to know she was that "Lucy"; the friend Julian Lennon drew a picture of some fourty-odd years ago. John asked him what the picture was and he replied "it's Lucy, in the sky with diamonds."

The infinite susurration in my ears coupled to a warm, sweet breeze were the two tangible things that reached my brain first.  These were rapidly followed by impressions of soft warmth, through cocooned textures, and I found myself in an alien surseance – a tranquil island that was so far beyond what my brain could ever recall experiencing that I knew at once that I was dead.  Life was not about comfort, life offered no tranquility.