She paused high above the fjord’s cold waters, the wind twisting ice snakes through her hair. Far below, Lars’ boat moved silently, almost beautifully, its wake a great, tranquil spiral, smoke drifting behind.
The resistance would go on – it had to! – but she would miss those two gentle hands forever.
Pierre Dunn is currently working on stories and novels in a range of genres and styles, because every story demands its own form. He’s only 66, so he still has time to get published.
The war lasted many years, but today would mark its end. The knight pulled his sword out of the murderous king knowing his action had saved many lives.
Honor above all, the knight told himself. But nonetheless, he whispered one final sentence to the king.
“Be at peace, my brother.”
Wim De Cuyper spends most of his time writing for a Belgian website and reading books. English not being his first language, he thanks videogames and movies in particular for making him able to read most of his books.
Check out his website: www.4gamers.be
Clear starlit sky above the frozen snow, we sit unmoving, eyes scanning the fields ahead, praying for the next attack so that we can move, life sought in another’s blood.
Our breath freezing our eyes, but hands too heavy to lift, behind the eyes the mind slips into eternal vigilance.
Craig MacDonald lives in Scotland, where he has worked as a hypnotherapist and computer consultant. He loves trying new and interesting things and meeting new people.
Crimson dyed the sky. A colossal, drowning black rushed to overtake it. Into the heavens two colors fought, masking bloody fires below. In time, I will forget the explosion, the names of the dead, even the blinding light, but the battle between red and black will own the skies forever.
Brandon Newman is a senior at Hunterdon Central Regional High School in Flemington, NJ.
The plane descended back to his homeland.
His desert boots touched the tarmac, and he looked up from his sandy brim.
The cold nights with explosions that lit up the sky left him, and the warm nights with the ones he loved were waiting.
Michael D’Aniello is a high school student in New Jersey. His Creative Writing class was assigned 50-word stories and he felt this was his best piece.
Look for more stories from members of Michael’s Creative Writing class in the future!
Charging into battle astride a fat, stubborn elephant had never been high on General Coriando’s list of Things To Accomplish In Life. As arrows whizzed past his ears, he lamented, “I could’ve been a baker, or a tailor! I could’ve joined the circus!”
The elephant was thinking the same thing.
*click*
Oh no.
*click click*
It’s jammed! This is bad. REALLY BAD.
*click click click click*
What am I going to do?! Any second now he’s going to turn around and see me, and then…
*click click BANG*
Phew!
I thought I might get blamed for breaking his nail gun.
This story was based on the TypeTrigger prompt “faulty trigger”.
“You and me, we’re flanking, right?”
“I thought we were the vanguard.”
“What’s a vanguard?”
“The guys at the front, I think.”
“Aren’t those the shock troopers?”
“Only if they’re charging ahead and catching the enemy by surprise.”
“Like a blitzkrieg?”
“Sort of.”
“These water fights have gotten really complicated.”
This story was based on the TypeTrigger prompt “and me.”
Their sheds and bunkers were overloaded with guns, ammo, rations, reactors, and even entertainment, everything they thought they needed. For five years they had readied themselves for the invaders’ arrival.
The one thing they hadn’t counted on was the aliens’ overwhelming cuteness.
Psychologically incapable of fighting back, they were overrun.
This story is based on a title suggested by David Paye.
“You are eighteen, Ahradok. Here is your sword. Come join the fighting men!”
“Father,” said Ahradok, “I wish to remain in the kitchens.”
“Son, men work with drawn swords, not wooden spoons.”
Ahradok honoured his father’s advice, but soon found that a sword is highly impractical for chopping and dicing.