Once Upon the Shoulders of Giants
Funny it should rain today, Ariel thought as she wiped the misted rain droplets off the top of the reliquary. She tucked her short blonde hair behind her ear and unfurled her sleeves. An admittedly disenchanted, middle-aged archaeologist, Ariel had never been one to appreciate the irony of weather in a situation, but there was a first time for everything.
Updated September 30 2022 As promised, the next Dragon Challenge is finally here! Details below: Back in October 2021, your editors at the Vocal Creators Chronicle designed a Facebook space exclusively for reading, sharing, and chatting about Vocal Challenges. We were prompted by the beautiful chaos of the the first ever V+ Fiction Awards.
S'Up Vocal, Enough with the Dogs
WHAT DID YOU SAY?? Empress Savannah Lavinnia Florentina the 1st I am answering a call to claws!! Dogs, dogs, dogs, BLECK. I must inform you Vocal, that when I read Abigail Holmes' latest blog, I had a hairball. My only regret is that Vocal doesn't have shoes. Show me your shoes! I feel another coming on. - Empress Savannah Lavinnia Florentina the 1st
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say — unless you’re a tardigrade. Sarah’s travel mug and its laughable quote were a tribute to her best joke of the semester. You needed humour on your side when teaching Earth Science topics like cleavage and hardness to freshmen, and the young professor had a knack for making her students laugh with her instead of at her. The mug had been a heartwarming surprise in her university mailbox two days after final exams.
Denouement Aboard the Disoriented Express
The droning buzz of indiscernible conversation awakens me; it filters into my mind like bees searching for their hive, spreading throughout my body until it reaches my heart and nestles there. I gasp, open my eyes and my heart beats for the first time. From the shadows, I take in my surroundings.
Let Feedback Ring
Criticism. Rejection. Feedback. The holy trinity of a writer's worst nightmare. No wonder we use pen names. Gabino's thoughts ring true for short stories and Vocal articles as well; basically, anything that comes from an author's inner world is close to our heart. Sometimes, sharing your work with the public feels like walking into a room naked. But, like, not just naked, covered in warts with a bad haircut, and the audience is your former high school classmates kind of naked.
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. It wasn't a real candle; no, it was one of those tacky, neon signs shaped like one. Below it read the words: SPELLS & WEDDINGS FOR CHEAP. Nevertheless, it was a beacon in the twilight, spilling into the darkness of the bleak, dense forest, which surrounded the cabin like a cloak. For the hikers, it was a welcome sight—they'd reached their strange destination at last.
The 'Last Supper'
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The candle, much like the man who lit it, was a lingering piece of history, which had been all but swallowed by the flow of time. Few still living remembered how to use manual implements anymore; and certainly not one as antique as a candle.