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Write a story that starts by establishing its setting in a different time period — without explicitly stating what that period is.

Posted in Historical Fiction on Jul 16, 2021

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✍️ 114 stories

When

Submitted to Contest #44

I grew up in a time period when, the successors of Paleolithic humans adapted to the rapid global warming that constitutes the beginning of our present interglacial period, circa 9,600 BCE ago. Even back in them days we were will aware of Global Warming even if writing wasn’t invented not even on cave walls and surely not a Bic lighter. The earliest writing systems appeared c. 5,300 years ago, but it took thousands of years for writing to be widely adopted, and it was not used in some human cultures until the 19th century or even until ...

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The Hairline Crack

Submitted to Contest #44

Write a story that starts by establishing its setting in a different time period — without explicitly stating what that period is.   I want so desperately to sleep but I can’t! Dave’s snoring and his hot breath on the back of my neck doesn’t help. It’s been a rough week. I can’t get the televised images of the funeral procession out of my mind. I get up and take one of the Valium prescribed by Dr. McCarthy and return to bed. I lie staring into the dark.   My eyelids are heavy as I peer across the sunlit room at the clock on the dre...

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Charcoal and Metal

Submitted to Contest #44

The sky was charcoal black, the underside of the clouds having been greased up with the sooty excretions of the new and densely clustered factories below. The smell was unbelievable: a stench incomparable in its acrid tang that laced the back of the tongue and spoke of unwashed bodies, disparity, and the iron taste of money. To Anna, who had been born in the country before her parents got sick with the fever, it was a nightmare. She had been moved to live with her aunt on the edges of this steaming metropolis. She had made Anna bathe to get ...

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Ann's Story

Submitted to Contest #44

Chapter 1:“Must you go to war father?” Ann Godowsky asked as they ate dinner that evening. “I don’t want to go child. You know they have threatened me to go out of this country if I don’t go.” Mr. Godowsky replied. Ann sighed. “I know what you are thinking, Ann.” He said. Two years ago when Ann was not quite ten, her mother had died from a fever. “I don’t want to lose you, father.” Ann said softly. “I know child but you must be my brave little girl for my sake.” Mr. Godowsky said.  They silently ate an...

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Bourbon & Bees

Submitted to Contest #44

My late twenties were surreal. I mostly have sensations and feelings about those years rather than very precise memories. Cocooned in a microcosm that loathed the ordinary, every aspect of my life was swathed in a miasma of frenetic excess. The drinking and partying was off the charts. At the time, I thought I had arrived. Once, chasing a deadline, I worked in the office for fifty straight hours, nourished by little other than Red bull. Similar acts of misguided machismo were obligatory to burnish one’s street cred, as the Navy Seals of Inve...

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Prophecy

Submitted to Contest #44

It was a time of Kings and Queens. Of full harvests and lavish parties. And, most importantly, of magic, abundantly. Or at least to my story. My mother was always proud of me, even when I broke something. My father, on the other hand, never wanted to see me doing anything other than housework with my physical two hands. Living in two different worlds was more comfortable than living my father’s standards of a daughter, at least until a sickness hit our small village.     Mother and Father came home from the market, and by...

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Let the end begin.

Submitted to Contest #44

I realized it is learning quickly, after all it has just been assembled. It may get confused about some things that humans do. The codes may not get compiled, or the loops keep on repeating without reaching any conclusion. The 8 year old Sam thought about this latest droid. Does it feel like I do or it has to be programmed to do so. Dad says it can’t feel. I am not so sure about that. Someone must have programmed me so that I can feel. It can paint, but the truth is it has some scanned images that it replicates. It can also explain what it i...

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The Talking Field

Submitted to Contest #44

The field was long and grassy. It was filled with thick-stemmed dandelions and sunshine marigolds that twinkled like stars in the sky of green. The tree's leaves were defined and vividly green-they were beautiful enough to be in heaven. The little sweetpeas would twirl like distant wedding dresses. There was also a row of tall elegant trees that were always lemon yellow, they grew fine red-tinged flowers on their leaves. But the field was more glorious when the sun flooded the place, the flowers would be crested with pink light and each blad...

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Speak Easy

Submitted to Contest #44

Unbeknownst to the owners of the home, wine had been secretly slipped into their mailbox. Eugene had done it in one graceful motion, sliding the dark glass right next to the newspapers. He smirked. When alcohol was scarce, knowing that you had a bit of it for yourself was always a good moment. Eugene skipped up to Mr.Haskel, who was already knocking on the door in a somewhat drunken motion. Haskel wore wine stained suspenders buttoned to voluminous trousers, he had the air of a man who lived large and liked large things. The door s...

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The Great Battle Axe of Qiuyue Zhang

Submitted to Contest #44

The explosion rocked the whole building and Hui stooped low to avoid the hanging ceiling. Another explosion came from a long way off. This war had to stop and Hui was determined to be the one to stop it. 7 days later Hui whooped with delight and accomplishment as the metal ladle spun in a circle stopping as it reached the halfway point. It had worked! Hui’s invention had succeeded which might just help them win the underground war. Hui stopped as the ladle spun again and stopped, quivering between the sword and where it was tr...

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The Lad With the High Quality Cap

Submitted to Contest #44

I have memories, just like any other normal person. Memories of love and loss, hope and peace, hate and destruction. My mother died of cancer when I was three. I remember the day she died. I laid my head on hers, I handled her face sweetly as I asked my father why she didn't wake up. I remember the time my father remarried, I was seven. I stood stiff in a little white dress as my father stared teary-eyed at my new mother. Memories are a relative thing, sometimes I remember the minute something happened, and other times I only remember small...

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The Sixth thorn

Submitted to Contest #44

It was a cold austere November evening when Lady Rosaline Roberts decided she was better off without happy endings. The clock advertently chimed six overhead her just at that moment the resolution positioned, and her fate was sealed, or so it seemed. Still, a little fire stoked relentlessly in the core of her indifference, apparent by the glare her eyes would emit and the sharp breath she would draw when someone, jokingly smears her with the endowment “sixth thorn.” It was a name she never would consider getting accustomed to, but it seemed ...

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The Curse

Submitted to Contest #44

A long time ago, a young boy lived in a house on a farm near the forest. His parents kept him at home often, so he was schooled at home, and lived a sheltered life. Rarely was he allowed to go outside, and it was only at night. During the day, he would be given lessons by his mother, and at night he would go out with his father. They would watch the stars and talk about different topics. One night, the young boy asked if they could go exploring in the woods. His father changed the subject to something different, and the boy forgot his questi...

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The Blossom of Arundel

Submitted to Contest #44

     Fayre sauntered into the great hall, her radiance disguising the sickly turmoil within her.     How it aggravated her to see Cloridan meander about the great hall, mingling with the feast guests as if he were home in his own castle.  She wished everyone in the hall could share just a little of her hostility, that Cloridan might not look so arrogant and comfortable.     Fayre moped about the hall, barely acknowledging any greetings offered her.  She knew...

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Fear of the Jackboot

Submitted to Contest #44

Felix was woken by the sound of storm troopers marching along the street. He leapt out of bed and hurried to the window. Pulling aside the thin gauze curtain, he watched a score of uniformed thugs stomp past a group of frightened onlookers and disappear into a nearby side road. “Will I be killed today?” he whispered to himself as a pang of fear shot through his frame.The streets, normally bustling, had become sheepish, only the bold, the brave and those with nothing to fear carried on with their quotidian duties. Felix was an honest, ha...

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