Day 245 Writing Short Stories

Saddle

The leather under her scrunched as she corrected her posture. She had been riding all day, and the saddle was starting to wear her. She wanted nothing but to walk and stretch herself, but they still had a few more miles to go before they could rest for the night. She let out a stifled yawn and said nothing to her companions.

It was a stroke of good fortune that they had been able to get the horses. Without them, they would still be days away from getting back home to have their well-earned rest. The world had been saved. All the evil had been banished from the lands, and now there was just rest and quiet time to contemplate what had happened. She was glad it was all over. That she didn’t have to fight anymore, she was not made for great battles. She was made to sit at home and drink her tea.

She glanced at her companions and saw that not all agreed with her. They carried on their shoulders the burden of the dullness without combat, without fear, and without death. They already moved restlessly as if to look for the next great evil behind every corner they passed by. They needed the bad to feel alive. She didn’t. She needed quiet mornings and the peace of the woods that surrounded her home. Yet, when it came to the tally, she had more deaths under her belt than the others. She fought for life and they for death, or so she had gathered.

She sighed. They would have their battles more likely than she would have her rest. There was always a great next evil behind the turn of time. So it was. If there wasn’t one, someone invented it.

Stereotypes

This was a story about a stereotypical character doing something out of character in the end. Nothing came into my mind, and I couldn’t afford to ponder too long because I had to leave for work.

Passage of Time

There is this inherited hurry in me. A constant movement. The constant hunger to eat and mate. I can feel the neurons in my body fire. They tell me to act. They force me to buzz. At the end of the day, I’m gone. There is just the fleeting moment, but I know nothing of it. It’s an eternity to me. It is all the universe has afforded my kind.

Yet, I see you blink ever so slowly. You move as if there is no hurry in the world. You shield yourself from the world with your hard shell, and all you do is chew and chew the same leaf as I fly past you. How can you be so calm in the face of time? Time is running out on you, and you do nothing to catch it. I have birthed future generations to come, but you don’t even glance towards the others. You dip your toes in the water flowing past you faster than you can move, and you stand there, letting it sway against you.

I shout at you to hurry, but you chew and chew.

Then the dawn comes, and my flight stops, and you still chew and chew. You stand in the passage of time without hurry. It is as if you have stolen more days than were ever afforded to me.

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

I had to leave the prompts short today. I almost didn’t write the first one as I did not know where the story should go. I hate these mornings when I need to hurry to work.

Thank you for reading ❤ Have a peaceful day!