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Submitted to Contest #338
Who decides reality? Do historians determine the past from the eyes of the present? Are all of our lives determined by the will of those who dare to write them in their own words, imprinting their dispositions on us? “They’re coming, we have to finish quickly,” a man in a dark brown hood quietly relayed to another, similarly dressed being. The incoming party’s footsteps echoed across the cobblestone walkway as their whispers grew louder. The flickering of their flashlights grew closer and made their whispers all the more fractional.“We don’t...
Submitted to Contest #329
“Do you think God hears our voices all the time? Or does he only listen when he wants?” Jamie asked her mother on the way home from school. They were driving on their typical route through a suburban neighborhood with moderately sized, brick homes and grass that was sometimes a little too long. During the afternoons, it was typically very lively in the blocks by the school, but Jamie’s mother, Joann, had to work late so the space between the car window and the outside world felt all the more separate.“Well, if by voices you mean the prayers ...
Submitted to Contest #324
The moon’s reflection off the dark ocean left much to the imagination. Just enough light to see the rippling of the water, and the outline of a boat to the right of the horizon.Thomas stood at the top of the cliffside and stared off into the sea, listening to the sounds of waves crashing below on an otherwise peaceful night.It’s taken me a long time to afford a view like this. I wonder how long it took him, whoever is sleeping under the stars, floating on top of the ocean. Day in and day out, the boat sits there. I’ve never seen anyone on it...
Submitted to Contest #321
We’re alone out here. No one is coming to save us. All the nights we stare up at the stars. No more pollution crowding the skies and yet, it doesn’t feel different. It really doesn’t. Sure, there are more stars to see and sometimes they blink back. But what good does that do us? We’ve lost our purpose, our drive. There’s nothing to do, now that the world ended. Just gotta make sure we have some food, and something to drink for a few days before we move somewhere else. They really reduced us to nothing. Those monsters. We’re all supposed to b...
Submitted to Contest #317
Her death, it always puzzled me. The skies were grey outside of Ken Mendenhall’s cobblestone home. He rested his head on his perched hand as he overlooked the bustling Victorian downtown from his small balcony nested on the hillside.I saw her body fall from the sky port. It fell down thousands of feet as the whole town stood and watched. The shouts alerting everyone of the scene unfolding faded quickly into a horrified stillness. At the time, no one knew why she fell. I stood there, just as everyone else, wondering why this poor woman took t...
Submitted to Contest #314
The fire burned in his empty heart, and we, the voices, remind him how alone he really is. Trapped with nothing but his own mind to keep him company, and the fire to keep him warm.The flames were scalding around Damien, but he didn’t feel the heat in the way that one would expect. The fire brought energy to him, he needed it. As he arose from his slumber, he brushed the rocks from his pelt and began his journey through the Firey wasteland. The terrain was uneven and rocky, with some pathway through the flames. The voices started to whisper t...
Submitted to Contest #313
“Would you love me when I am weak, just as you do when I am strong?” The Knight Francis asked The Princess. His eyes met hers with a mix of anticipation and worry, for he did not know how long he had left. His dreams were to ride into battle with her blessing of love, knowing that he captured her heart and lived valiantly. Her eyes, however, remained dispassionate in his ask. Clearly, from his perspective, she was deep in thought in response to his request. Of course, he was a knight, but he was also her knight. To protect and love her as a ...
Submitted to Contest #309
What does it mean to be broken? James thought to himself as he stared blankly at the shattered glass on the tile floor of his kitchen. I guess it just means that something can’t be fixed. As the sounds of the broom combined with the glass scratching over the tile, he continued thinking, The damned glass. It just slipped between my fingers. Everything always feels like it’s slipping away. I can’t believe I’ll never see her again. He paused for a moment, realizing his hand was covered in blood and shaking. “James, I’m sorry.” Her words ran th...
Submitted to Contest #293
It’s like I’m starting over again, James thought to himself as he gazed out of the car window. I am Sisyphus. But I reached the top of the mountain only to find another that reaches steeper and higher. What then? What will happen when I reach the top? Will I ever see the view?“James? You still with us, buddy?” David asked as he tapped James on the forehead. “Huh? Oh yeah, I was just thinking,” James replied as he continued to gaze out of the window. The trees lining the sides of the road blurred if he didn’t focus on them. As the car zo...
Submitted to Contest #286
“I’ll never forget the days in the backyard playing catch with him, or the times we spent in the car on the way to school. It was such a long drive, but we always found a way to fill the time,” the speaker, a moderately tall man in an ill-fitted black suit, took a painfully deep breath to try and hide the shakiness in his voice. Oh, Dave. I can feel the pangs of sadness in my chest as I watch you suffer through this. The pain entered and left my husband’s eyes as he mustered up the courage to continue speaking at his father’s funeral. “...
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