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Weekly Contest #367
The cool morning air hits my freshly shaven face. I hadn’t had a shave in days, let alone the warm bath that I had the night before. As the cool causes my skin to rise a little, the Sun’s rays hit me, like a comforting blanket. I close my eyes and inhale as deeply as I can, there has been something set in motion that of which I cannot change. I was merely born, now I am here, be it by fortune? I watch from the corner of my eye as a great man embraces his legions, his mouth is moving, but I cannot hear words. Everything feels as if life itse...
Weekly Contest #331
CW: combat, violence, descriptive A legionnaire of coastal origins stands on the walls of a frozen fort. If it were up to him, he would’ve spent his time stationed on the coasts of home. He often reminisces of the sun's warming touch on his skin, the sand beneath his feet, crunching between his toes. His name is Markos. In his youth he would go to the shores and dive into the sea, cooling from the Summer heat. He would hunt for fish along the shore, eyes darting back and forth between waves, looking for dinner. Afterwards, Markos would wat...
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