This was written for Cracked Flash Fiction last week. The first two sentences were the prompts. It’s again a snippet of story set in Airtha-Eyrassa.
“Don’t feel bad. I’m pretty hard to kill.” The voice was inside her head, but it was the wizard’s voice nonetheless.
“It is too late to turn back - for all of us,” I said. “We have to go on. We were chosen for a reason.” Around us the landscape had turned starker until only short brush remained and the red dust was whipped into the air to scour our faces and hands. The prison tomb, … Continue reading Flash Fiction: Shadows
“What does she hunt?” the youngest asked. The tips of red gnome hats could be seen sticking up through the tall grass.
“Sister, you must weave the final strand,” Tomorrow said. She watched Ansgar in the reflection of the pool next to which she sat. “The thread has been cut.”
Dust. All around her was dust. It was piled on the stone shelves and against the walls of living stone. Ripples had been left in the gray dust as the waves of time had swept through the great library where books had been kept safe for thousands of years. It had been an impenetrable fortress … Continue reading Flash Fiction: Dust to Dust to Life
“More sure than I have ever been about anything in my life,” Trevor answered and patted the side of the moon rocket.
This is a translation of the story “Dust Red As Blood”, which you can read by scrolling further down the page or by following this link. Storienota: hierdie verhaal is oorspronklik vir die Cracked Flash Fiction-kompetisie geskryf en het daardie week gewen. In die kompetisie word jy die eerste sin van jou storie gegee en … Continue reading Vonkfiksie: Grond so rooi soos bloed / Flash Fiction: Dust Red As Blood
“Raise the flag!” Children laughed and played on a disused fishing boat stranded on the white beach sand, oblivious to the worry of their mothers and grandmothers. These had made their way down to the beach in the morning as soon as the storm led up. They kept their eyes on the horizon, pointedly ignoring … Continue reading Flash Fiction: All That Is Left
This past week and weekend has been spent mostly on studies, creating a gift for a baby shower, and also some writing - yay!