Day 234 Writing Short Stories

Stitch

There was no time or place in history when war was absent. It was always lurking in the shadows, tempting the hearts of men to solve their problems through violence. He had seen enough battlefields to know wars had no point. But he knew nothing else. He was made to fight. Even now, he could hear the rush of blood in his ears and his battle cry as he lifted his axes in the air. He could see the fear in his enemies’ eyes as the axes came down. He could hear their cries. He had cut down enough boys, only seventeen, to know what death meant. The curse of the war would always be there.

Even the sting of the stitches as the needle went through his skin couldn’t keep him away. There would be another battle and another until one of those boys got their blade into his ribs and stole his life away. He yearned for that day to come. He had earned as much to die in the battle and hear the Valkyries sing their songs for him.

Past Lovers

We once were entwined together. Our destinies seemed to go along. But then nothing made sense, and our hearts departed. And now here you are, your face ever so familiar, yet worn over the years, sitting across from me in the cafe just like that. Your eyes speak volumes about what passed between us and what passed after that. None of us are the same, but I can still feel the hopes we had for each other and for our future. I never let go of that. I let go of you, and you of me.

“I’m sorry,” I hear myself say.

You reply ever so casually, brushing off what I did, and you did, with a single shrug.

I can see that you have moved on. I still linger in our history.

You tell me about your life, and I can barely keep up with your words as I picture all the years you spent without me. I can see how our lives would have been if we had never parted.

I want to tell you I never should have let you go, that I have found nothing like you; that you completed me. I say nothing. I don’t want to sound needy and selfish.

You go on about your work, your travels, your lovers. You speak so much that I barely get a word in. Your life seems so much better than mine. I say as much to you. You laugh it off, and I don’t know if you did so in kindness or not.

When you stop speaking, you expect me to tell you about my life. The words get tangled in my mouth, and all I can think of is how you see me. I hear myself telling you about my weekend with the boys. You listen to my recount disinterestedly, and we part our ways soon.

I let you leave. I know I shouldn’t. But I have no courage to fight for you.

Bad Teacher

This is about a bad teacher and a bored class. I skip this one.

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

I wondered if I should turn the Stitch story into a battle, but it would have felt forced, so I went along with the story as it wanted to be told. But I really want to write another battle scene, so I can learn.

My mind feels a lot better. I know life should have adventures that disrupt the normal, but they always throw me off course, and I need to work hard to get things back on track. My cat helped me with that today. We spent over an hour on the sofa as he was curled up on top of my chest. He is the cutest little beast in the world, and he makes me happy. Now he is waiting for his lunch, and I’d better give it to him.

Thank you for reading ❤ Have a wonderful day today!