Eloise Robertson
Bio
I pull my ideas randomly out of thin air and they materialise on a page. Some may call me a magician.
Achievements (1)
Stories (98/0)
The Price of War
“If you are hearing this, it means you have triggered the event. I am sorry, my brother, that it has come to this. Honestly, even though I know it is for the best, I still hope you never hear this message. This plan was my idea, one born from desperation. I found a quote from a woman from Earth that I hope you understand, now. 'The cost of war is like an immeasurable tremor that knows no borders, its shockwaves reverberating across the world resulting in universal suffering.' You‘ve destroyed too much for me not to try this, but you’re still my brother... and I love you. Goodbye. End message.”
By Eloise Robertson 3 years ago in Fiction
The Midnight Train
The train station was a decrepit building with a veranda shading the platform overlooking the tracks. Beyond the tracks was only a glowing, snow-covered field. Shadows of trees in the distance created a black wall of darkness that the moon’s light could not penetrate. The beginning of winter struck when I first sat on the wooden bench, watching the travelers take the night train.
By Eloise Robertson 3 years ago in Fiction
Ape See, Ape Do
The heavy rain was deafening on the truck’s loose roof paneling but it wasn’t enough to drown out the noise of the old diesel engine screaming in protest as Wyatt forced it into the next stiff gear. Wyatt bounced jarringly in his seat as he slid around a corner followed by the stress-inducing sound of cargo tumbling in the back of the truck. Either the contents fell or the truck's panels had finally given out. He hoped it wasn’t the cargo; he couldn’t afford more truck repairs but losing the product would mean he wouldn't be paid either. His phone glowed on the dashboard as his destination came into view: a large theatre, painted red, trimmed with gold and illuminated by glowing signs of upcoming acts. Wyatt picked up his phone.
By Eloise Robertson 3 years ago in Fiction
Deference Due
The great ornate hall was filled with men beyond their prime, their finest thick suits hanging from their broad shoulders along with their ties choking them in the humid space. The quiet rumble of words was silenced by the sound of confident footsteps stalking through the door from the side of the stage, echoing through the hall. As the auctioneer crossed the stage the potential buyers comfortably resumed their murmurings, disregarding the presentation platform until the proceedings were scheduled to begin.
By Eloise Robertson 3 years ago in Fiction
The Library Voyeur
My dearest readers, how kind of you to join me on this fine evening. What am I doing here and what are we observing - you ask? Well, we are here for my favourite subject. Don’t be fooled by how ordinary he looks; I promise you he is worth the watch.
By Eloise Robertson 3 years ago in Fiction
Despair and Desolation under the Gemini Stars
In her chest there are two holes. Rather than an absence of something it is instead a heavy presence, a burden so obviously seen by the drag in her slender shoulders, the hollows under her eyes and the stooping of her posture. One hole she named Despair, the other is named Desolation. Despair nestled into the girl’s heart at an early age, first shaking hands with her in her elder child years. It fills the void that was created when her family perished from sickness.
By Eloise Robertson 3 years ago in Fiction
Life On Planet Earth
Your inner voice is now the voice of David Attenborough with his same smooth tones and candor. The Earth’s ocean is home to some of the most spectacular species on our planet, with beauty and mystique in abundance. Estimates put our oceans home to hundreds of thousands if not millions of different species, including bacteria and microbes, with up to 2,000 new species discovered every year.
By Eloise Robertson 3 years ago in Earth
The End Begins At The Edge Of The World
The long daylight hours had slipped away from the world into what Ødger was sure to be a short, cold night. Ødger eyed the Knarr sailing well ahead of his own as the wind rushed into their sails and blew salty air through his thick beard. He gripped his gloved hands tighter on the hilt of his sword, squinting against the sea spray, trying not to lose the dim light of the ship ahead sinking into the darkness.
By Eloise Robertson 3 years ago in Fiction