Day 153 Writing Short Stories

Red

The banner rose high in the frozen field. Its red color spoke of grandeur and violence to come. The men, armed with swords and shields mounted on horses, along with the archers and catapults, were slowly arranged in their positions. The terror rising inside the keep surged like a wave, causing people to tremble and lose hope. There were too many of them. Too many enemies. Too many brothers who hated the king.

She stood at the top of the rampart, watching the king gather his men in line, ready to fight the enemy. Ready to defend justice. Ready to get himself killed and ready to lose the keep. By the end of the day, everyone she had ever known would be dead, and the life she knew would be over. Or, she could let them see what she was. But her mother had sworn on her deathbed never to let a living being know what she was capable of.

If she did this, she would have to flee, but they would be spared. But if she didn’t, they would be dead, and she would have to flee nevertheless. She had decided as soon as she saw the red banner how this would end.

She climbed to the highest spot of the keep, widening her stance. She began her song that took over the keep, getting volume from its thick stone walls, and then it poured out to the field, trapping the soldiers. She knew all the eyes were on her and her green woolen dress. She pushed past that feeling and then made her song do what it was capable of. It made the roots shoot out of the ground, seize the soldiers, and trap them. She shouted for the king’s men to ride out and slay their enemy.

Underneath her, men bled to death, their throats being slit open.

She heard the hurrah. She heard the cries. And then she saw the terror in the eyes of those who had loved her days before. They had turned to watch her. And then she saw in the king’s eye what her mother warned of, greed and possession.

Tiny Cafe

The rain came down as if it had been called there by justice to cleanse the city. She rushed into the tiny cafe, and so did the man next to her. They both were trapped inside the little foyer, having bumped into each other…

I don’t have time to finish this. I have to hurry out. It took longer than I meant to write the previous story. I have my physiotherapy soon. Also, this one is a love story. You know…

Tears

He tied his hand around the kitten’s paw and felt the tears come down. He had never cried, but the helpless creature full of love and care made the tears pour down.

The prompts are from the book A Year of Creative Writing Prompts.

I have to hurry. I wanted to get these done before my physiotherapy.

Thank you for reading! I hope you all the wonder for today ❤