Day 269 Writing Short Stories

Heavy

The sword felt heavy in his hand. His tutor had worked him hard yesterday, beating his body senseless, and now he had been dragged outside to work on his sword skills. His tutor had an evil gleam in her eyes. She looked as if she were ready to give him another one of her beatings. If he wanted to be a knight, this was the road to it. He had never thought that road would be so harrowing both to the body and mind. He was ready to give up his love for Lady Felice. Her noble birth would never allow her to love him as he was now—a potter’s son.

As a knight, he could win her love and win his right to be in the courts. He straightened his back and lifted the sword into the air. A sword that on a normal day would be as light as a feather. Now the heaviness pressed him down. He looked Mary in her eyes and tempted her to come. His tutor was a family friend, and she had taken him under her tutelage out of kindness.

Mary saw her opening, and she came at him with her full force, knocking him down in the mud. The cold, half-frozen mud wet his linen tunic. He wanted to cry and throw the sword at her, but he saw himself one day wearing full battle armor. The image got him up, again and again and again.

Re-Imagined Fairytale

My mind draws a blank. I tried to think of a fairytale, but nothing came to mind. I just felt my thoughts go blank. I googled fairytales, and none of them screamed at me, “Write me.” So I skipped this one.

Death

Early on, I knew that when I would die, the Valkyries would ride the sky and they would come to get me. I wouldn’t have to die in battle. I could still be the modern woman I was, but they would come. So had happened to all my ancestors. My mother, my father, my grandma. All of them would be waiting for me in the afterlife.

The boy who sat next to me in class would go to a different heaven. He came from a long line of Armenians, and he had his afterlife decided by his history.

I knew of people who weren’t satisfied with where they would end up. They tried to bargain with the gods, with Death. But, as in life, they were sorted out in death as predestined. So it went. So it was.

I didn’t mind the Valkyries. I had seen them riding the sky when my mother died. I saw her smiling when she died. She had been waiting for that day to come. Death was easy. It was life that was hard. It was hard to take anything seriously when you knew the truth. You knew the long afterlife awaited you. There were stories about rotted souls and what happened to those who didn’t follow their ancestors’ beliefs. I shuddered at the thought.

I saw my teacher looking at me. She was explaining history, cultures.

She would go to Christian heaven. She thought she was luckier than I. I could see it in her eyes. Her holier-than-holy attitude shone off her like a dreadful curse. I wondered if her pride would send her to Hell instead. I didn’t hope that for her. I had read about Hell, and it didn’t sound like a nice place to end up.

Changing religions didn’t help. But there was a murky line for those whose parents came from different backgrounds. Blood was blood. Souls were souls. And it was as if the gods had decided what quota they had of the living.

I believed in Odin. But I still thought the whole system was bonkers. It felt like a game or a story. But people knew. They took it seriously. So did I. But sometimes I wondered, what if I stepped out of line, what would wait for me? Would my soul be lost?

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

Oh, it is so much easier to write my book now that the theme is clear. I polished a scene I had written a long time ago and could now make the plot work. It made so much sense after today’s edits. Soon, I get to write new parts. I’m not yet sure how Kitty Worthwrite will enter the book, but I know I can solve that issue as it comes.

I had fun reading about Robin Hood and delving into the legend. I wonder where the songs of such heroes are now. I would love it if our popular culture and our stories had more positive examples of people fighting injustice and power. Actual power, like the one percent that has gotten richer since Covid, while the middle class and the poor have gotten poorer and worse off. We fight injustice on all other fronts, but have forgotten what happens to societies when the wealthy take money out of them on a massive scale, as has happened now. History shows how it corrupts societies and causes distress, leading to wars and collapse.

There has to be a way to make societies work. There has to be a way to make people cooperate and take only what is necessary. It is silly how history repeats itself in these matters. If existence is a simulation, I think it’s a simulation trying to solve the human problem: greed and selfishness.

Thank you for reading ❤ Have a wonderful winter day!