Writing has been a hobby of mine for years, so I'm just thrilled to be here! As for me, I love writing, dogs, and travel (only 1 continent left! Australia-.-)
I hope you enjoy what you read and I can't wait to see your creations :)
Descent: Part Four
Note: the following is based on a continuation of “Community Story” prompt presented by most excellent fellow Canadian Donna Fox. If you would like to join the fun, please go to the original post and either pick a story line or invent your own!
They Shall Not Grow Old
“In Flanders’ Fields, the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row,” -0- With a piercing shriek the whistle blew, the sound that haunted Sister Margret’s every moment. Waking or sleeping she could hear that deadly sound, and just behind it the screams. Roars of men thundering over the top, wails as bullets took them, cries of terror as their well-trained feet carried them forward, towards the only hope of survival.
Echoes of Eternity
There was nothing left to say. Years hung around her neck, heavy as an old mill stone. The kind of stone she had never seen. Yet she wore those years as a Queen might her crown. To say that one aged with dignity would be to compare them to her, and the comparison would be weak.
- Top Story - October 2023
Play It AgainTop Story - October 2023
Gentle music drifted through the bar, lingering around the quiet tables with their smiling faces and companionable silences. It was not a night for loud talk or boisterous laughing. It was a weeknight, the war was long finished, and the revelry for the returning soldiers long buried in the mundanity of life.
The stench of blood was thick in the recycled air. Its metallic reek stuck to the new captain’s throat even as the auto-scrubbers got to work removing it from circulation. She didn’t think that she would ever forget the stench, the taste of the air, or the feeling of her knife grinding against the old captain’s ribs.
- Top Story - September 2023
How do (I) Write?Top Story - September 2023
I read Mackenzie Davis's "How do YOU write?" and the questions asked in that text were very interesting for me. I think about writing a lot, and I think about how I'm going to write my next piece a lot. So the answer, for me, is haphazardly.
Smiling into the camera, she talked about something on Twitter. There was something off about her, a tiredness, or an anxiety that I could not put my finger on. Maybe I was projecting. But none of that mattered, her words were so much empty space now, a time capsule of entertainment. A frozen moment.