Creative Writing Exercise: What Happened Here?

     

    It’s time for a creative writing exercise! Whether you write fiction or non-fiction, you need to boost your creativity.

    Take a look at the image above.

    What’s the story?

    Can you come up with a mini-drama of not more than 350 words?

    Here’s how it works:

    • We set the scene
    • You make it your own, and
    • Share your creation in the comments section of this post

     Now for the ground rules:

    • Your story must be 350 words or less.
    • WTD provides an encouraging and safe environment for writers to grow and learn from each other. We’d love you to comment on other people’s submissions in a friendly and supportive manner.

    Boost your imagination with this creative writing exercise

    Can you weave a compelling story around this image in 350 words or less?

    I can’t wait to read what you come up with, so please copy your story into the comments section of this post.

    Oh, and have you joined the Great Writing Challenge 2016 yet? It’s not too late! Click here and add a comment to join over 600 other participants.

    About the author:
    Mary Jaksch is Editor-in-Chief at Write to Done. Grab her FREE report How to Write Like an A-List Blogger.

    JAMES PATTERSON MASTERCLASS. LEARN MORE.

    About the author

      Mary Jaksch

      Mary Jaksch is best known for her exceptional training for writers at WritetoDone.com. Grab a copy of her free report, How to Create an Irresistible Lead Magnet in Less Than 5 Hours. In her “spare” time, Mary’s also the brains behind AlistBlogging.net. and GoodlifeZEN.com, a Zen Master, a mother, and a 5th Degree Black Belt.

    • My Best Friend
      Ovi was a sweet little girl She was born a hardworking family. Although the family had to struggle for their needs is some circumstance but happy with whatever they received. Ovi was the oldest daughter and two sons after her .she was generous child. Since her childhood she was self-centered and happy with whatever she got and also shared her everything with brothers and family. She experienced many hardships in daily life. .(In an Indian language Ovi means a song which delight the women which working with kept then them happy and away from loneliness . with respect Ovi also did her best to keep her family happy)
      But, one thing should be noted that she silent shared only her jubilance with her family and not her unhappy experiences. And she also did not heap all those moments in mind. There was one with whom she used to share the entire thick and thins which happened in her life.
      She had her own dreamland which she visited every night. The dreamland had fields and farms everywhere till one eye could reach. Colorful birds, small paths which divided the farms .and made the way for Ovi and her antic monkey to walk. Yes he was one with whom she shared all her good and things. Antic monkey can exclaimed as an indescribable character. He was the one who glared hopes in ovi and gave her courage to fight every odd arising before her. He made her giggle, laugh and made forget all those sad moments. His antics were the one who kept ovi as well as her family happy simultaneously.
      Once, such a day aroused in the dreamland that shaken everything there. The clouds thundered and became dark. Roaring winds blew. Within a blink of eye monkey disappeared, a storm dragged him miles away. Ovi ran behind it. And the storm to a halt after crossing several miles. Within a second a big flock of clouds developed and ushered the great amount of light where the storm halted. It seemed was taking the monkey in sky.
      Ovi was in a great shock and worrying for best friend.
      To be continued……………………….

    • John Selkirk says:

      She stood alone, surrounded by hay bales, in the Lenz Family’s recently harvested wheat field. Staring up at the amazing night sky, she saw this different cloud formation from the recent calmness, it looked angry, but somehow she felt it must have been helpful to their cause.

      Margaret felt this must be what she had wanted, what they both wanted, and was a positive sign to her, and that somehow, this unusual atmosphere was sending her the message she had been waiting for, telling her that Paul had gone, as he had told her, over to the other side, and that she must follow as soon as she could.

      The bright light she saw directly below the unusually bright aquamarine blue rain cloud, appeared to highlight the gap straight ahead, and just over the brow of the hill to her front, she felt in her heart that he had taken this route to freedom. The first part of their plan had been completed as he had described it

      Her thoughts strayed back to the many conversations they had had over the past few weeks. He had a friend who was going to help him make the escape through the fence which she knew was just below this strange light

      She daren’t go any closer, and stood at a safe distance for fear of being seen by the guards. She began to think about her next move, knowing that her friend Sybille was on her side and she was ready to help get Margaret through “The Fence” when the time came, and that time was obviously now.

      She was hopeful that she would soon meet Paul again, as planned, on the other side of this fence, which had divided Germany for the last 15 years.

      Despite the atmosphere and the weather making her feel cold and damp on the outside, Margaret had a really warm feeling inside and was confident that Sybille would manage to provide her with the necessary paperwork prepared to ensure her safe passage.

    • Adrian Estment says:

      Suddenly there was a blinding flash and she stopped and stared. A great cloud rose beyond the end of the field, far in the distance.

      She looked at the great steamroller wheels abandoned in the corn, at angles to each other. Then she glanced right and studied the edge of the mini-pyramid, cunningly disguised behind the triangular fringe of the tree. When she squinted she could just make out where its lines met the sky, but then the leaves quivered and shook, and a great roaring overtook things.

      The steamroller had twisted through the air like a Mirage, a jetfighter freed of its undercarriage, to strike deep into the heart of the Circlemaker, spinning beyond the field’s far horizon. The collision illumined the scowling heavens, with thunderbolts flying like lightning.

      Now the girl turned her back on the scene. There would be no more crop circles tonight, before tea.

    • Av says:

      Is it time?
      What is that child?

      Am I there?
      Where did you want to be?

      Is it going to hurt?
      You mean pain, don”t you?

      Yes. Will I hurt again?
      Do you want to hurt again?

      Can everyone come?
      They will, one day.

      I’m sorry…
      What for?

      I didn’t see it sooner.
      Perhaps you should have stopped looking sooner.
      (laughs)

      Someone is going to miss me.
      Yes?
      I want to, but…..
      You love them. It’s okay. Would you rather stay?

      No. I am ready.
      You were always ready.
      (laughs again)

      I love you.
      We love you too.

      Okay. I’m coming…
      We never ever doubted that.
      Wait. One more thing….
      Yes?

      Will there be ice-cream?

      (laughs)
      There will be everything….

    • Thomas Drinkard says:

      Mother was wrong. There was something in grandpa’s old barn.

      Becky had heard it yesterday and tried to tell her mother about the sounds. It was like the leaves of hickories in the fall as they browned, talking to each other in the autumn winds before they fell.

      But this was Spring. The only leaves were those beginning to find the sun as days lengthened. The noises were still there; chittering even faster. If the sounds were things she could see, they’d be almost too quick to watch, hurtling by in a blur.

      She’d gone back to get more buttercups for the kitchen table. Those few she ran home with yesterday were already drooping.

      She edged down the dirt lane, closer to the barn than before, listening to the voices that were like crackling of old, yellowed paper. Now, in addition to the sounds, she could see lights flashing from inside the dark, dusty structure. They flashed in colors that described all of the rainbow and colors that weren’t normal.

      Though the day was mild, droplets of sweat formed on her upper lip. She dropped the flowers she’d picked and thought to turn and run.

      Surely Mother can’t deny this, if I can get her to come. To listen, to watch.

      Before she could turn to go, the gray wood of the barn began to erupt. It became red, then yellow and burned with a speed that smoke couldn’t follow. A disk that glittered with spinning, shifting colors rose from the structure as a whale breaching stormy seas.

      When clear of the melting remnants of the tin roof that slid from its sides, the vessel drove vertically into the cloudless blue sky until gone from sight.

      Except for twisted, blobs of burned tin, it was as if the barn had never existed

    • Mozafar says:

      I think I will aboard this story differently,

      IN TIMES OF ANGUISH, NEVER GIVE IN

      Luke is gone for almost 45 days now, the chief of police in charge of the find and rescue squad, Mme O’Neil, approached the doorsteps wearing a gloomy face, today was the last official day of the search and clouds were gathering anxiously, up to this point in time, their efforts had been remarkably futile, not a trace of the 13 years old boy was found, not a clue to, not a simple indication as to what might have happened to him, they have failed miserably.
      Knocking mildly on the door, almost silently as if she hoped to not be heard, she thought about her painful powerlessness, and thanked god that her children are safe and sound .
      Jim opened the door, Jim Parry, the father of Luke, he was sad but composed, he knew the news she was delivering solely from her look and atmosphere, and the realization made him a tad sadder, today they were officially on their own, the state will no longer send out the force, in all practicality they were absolutely and indisputably failing, but still the loss took a momentary toll on him, tcompany is essential in times of agony.
      laura rushed to the door moments after her father, she was 13 as well, the twin sister of Luke, the sudden disappearance of her brother made her more angry than sad, they had unfinished business that needed to be settled, it was his turn to throw rocks at billy Neigh’s convertible, and he just leave like that without doing his duties, ” I will find you and you will do it, coward ” she thought during these last weeks.
      On the door she found father and Lind O’Neil staring at each other, speechless,
      ” I wish you all the luck ” said O’Neil, and went down the doorsteps and out the lawn.
      ” You left us all alone, all of you, your wishes are as useless as you ” he spouted angrily. as she walked away, she stopped and looked back at him, ” I am sorry “, and continued without looking back.
      Laura was indifferent to the presence of the troops, even a little relieved with their dismissal, they brought unnecessary weight to the situation, and they shouted a lot and often broke her concentration.
      With her father going back into the house to get the keys to his truck, Laura went to her room, took her back-bag and came out, she threw a look at her mother, reading a book in complete melancholic state she smiled at her and went out, mother did not smile back.
      The Texan farms formed a beautiful sight at noon, serene and quiet, and extending as far as the horizon and beyond, the aggregated clouds blocked the sun and sent a cool breeze, a perfect day for jogging but bad for searching, the imminent storm limited the time at her disposal, and she had no rain gear, but all that seemed trivial when she looked at the plains, yellow-going-grey, she kept moving on, forwards, as she had already inspected the farms.
      At the distance she saw a building flashing giant waves of light, almost like a light house, but she was nowhere near n ocean, and in any case she didn’t really know about light houses, the blinding light drew her in and curiosity forced her to go on, it was a building type unfamiliar in rural Texas, all the more reason to be curious, she went on.
      300 meters away from the portal of access, she heard noises , undistinguished noises that were not familiar, the coherence and symmetry of those noises seemed almost like talk, almost like a conversation of some form, fear took over curiosity and she backed down slowly, the rain poured at that moment, suddenly and uncontrollably, as if God was emptying an endless bucket, she ran towards the building, and she went in.

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    • Tony24 says:

      Thank you very much for this professional tips, I think you are right! In writing very important to have a good imagination! Thanks for this you can write something unbelievable, for example: Shakespeare, Shelley M., Hawthorne, Poe, James Stephenson, Stoker, Huxley they are the best, are you agree with me? Of course it is very hard, but you must close all your feelings and mind and try to be more than a human!

    • I never thought it would happen to me. Having grown up between Roswell, NM and Marfa, TX, I could never could quite escape the incessant comments about aliens leaving aluminum foil shrapnel in my parents’ backyard, or the most recent military conspiracies at the Air Force base, or just where exactly those mysterious lights beyond the highway came from. It was as common was “how’s school?” and “crazy weather, right?” But I never thought that I would actually be involuntarily quarantined without knowing if anyone survived the attack – whatever it was – or not.

      A week ago Saturday, my brother Andy and I were exploring the farm on a breezy West Texas afternoon. We had seen the wind kicking up way beyond Mr Watkins pole barn, and a few droplets of dusty rain pecked our cheeks, but that was pretty much normal.

      And then we saw it. No living thing could have missed it. The whip-flash of daytime lightning struck faster than I could blink, and before I knew it, the ground itself was mushrooming out of control on the horizon. I could see a slicing frisbee of blinding light coming our way. I wanted to run, but I all I could do was stare. My brother Andy had brought along his Polaroid for a science project that he was planning, and snapped a quick shot.

      He, being the older one, came to his senses faster than I did.

      “Let’s go! Now!” he yelled, and grabbed my arm as we rushed about 200 yards across the pasture, and clambered down into the underground tornado shelter on our step-dad’s property. We tumbled inside and slammed the lid shut just before the deafening roar above us blocked out any other sensory input.

      So here I am – writing with charcoal on moldy paper napkins, wondering if anyone will ever find us, what the light and the noise really were, or if we’re the only ones alive, and hoping that this story will be preserved if we really are living in a post-apocalypse hellscape now. If anyone finds this letter, please put it in a museum, and tell Mom I loved her, if you can find her.

    • Dave Braaten says:

      “Stupid boys!”

      “Just let it go sis, I’ll talk to their parents this weekend. They shouldn’t be scarin’ a little girl like that.”

      Sis pulls a long string of the blue gum stuck in her hair. “Aw, I can take care of them mom. Don’t you worry.”

      “It’s not you I’m worried about, Sweety.”

      “I warned them about picking om me and my friends. They cut Mindy’s braid off today!”

      “Oh, I’m sure her parents are gonna come unglued over that.”

      Sis heads to the basement to see Papa.

      “There’s my little angel,” Papa says. “Do you wanna see me make bubbles?” the backyard chemist asks. “Just a pinch of the blue will do. Any more than that and we’d both be standing on the roof.”

      “Easy on the blue Papa. I don’t wanna have to jump off the roof.”

      They watch the concoction bubble over and spill from the table to the floor. As it hits the floor it goes up in smoke.

      The next day after school the girls are running home once again, with the boys right on their tail.

      “What’cha hiding their Pissy?” Lou Sifert asks.

      “You better quit calling me that,” Sissy says, “or your gonna be sorry.”

      “Just give me that.,” Lou says as he grabs the object from her hand. “It’s a big ole firecracker boys. Let’s go light it.

      Nearing home on the tractor path Sis turns around as she hears a tremendous boom. “Yep, too much blue.”

    • “Oh please not again!” Hayley cried out as she felt the burning sensation building up inside her almost to the point of bursting out of the front of her chest. She stared down the dusty road to where in the distance she could just make out the flashing blue and red lights of the fast approaching Police car. It was only yesterday that this same anger had changed her from a mild mannered 13 year old girl into a demonistic killer. Instead of the two debt collectors who called at her Dad’s farm, it was a car load of Police Officers. She had to do it again…

    • Anne says:

      Mother never mentioned that I could walk out of my bed and relieve my dreams. Rubbing my eyes and patting on my pajamas, I was not waking up. Huh. The world was changing. Quickly dissolving. It was true. Not another news broadcast on TV. Global warming and climate change was real. I was walking right into the new world order in terms of environment. Energy was the new ruler and monster at the same time. Humanity rubbished nature, and nature was here with a vengeance to avenge for every tree cut, every toxic factory emission emitted, every garbage hip left unattended…The new world is without vegetation, no wild animals, no flowing rivers…just a ball of uncontrollable energy! But im just a little girl – never smoked a cigarette, or cut a branch…but I was paying for the environmental sins of my forefathers.

    • Neil Holloway says:

      I thought I would post my 2nd draft after being inspired by everyone’s writing…

      Tammy used her hands to brush the surface of the dirt road smooth, then she picked up a stick and began to write her name. She liked her name. She liked the way it sounded. She was glad she was the only Tammy in her class. As she scratched her name in the earth she hummed to herself and absently twirled her blonde hair. The early morning sun bathed the fields of hay in a warm orange light and leaves on the trees were still a vibrant green. Something made her stop writing and she looked up. The air that had been filled with the sound of birds fell still and silent. Her shadow suddenly stretched out before her as if she had grown ten feet tall. Then a light so intense and white consumed everything and Tammy threw her arms over her eyes to stop it hurting. When it stopped, she blinked and tried to focus. She turned around and saw on the horizon a giant white cloud. It looked like the biggest oak tree she had ever seen and it was growing before her eyes. She wanted to run into the house and find her mum but she could not move. She tilted her head and watched curiously as it changed. A roiling dust cloud was rushing over the distant fields, like an enormous wave as if the dry land had become an ocean. She felt a hot breeze and her summer dress fluttered and flapped. The skin on her face and arms prickled. She closed her eyes again and imagined the hot sweet apple pie that mummy was baking. Then Tammy’s name and the hay and the house were cleanly swept away.

      Tammy woke up gasping and sat up in her bed. The sunlight was shining through the break in the curtains and tiny dust particles danced in the morning light. She was safe in her bedroom and she was no longer the little girl in the nightmare she was the twenty year old history student who had been anxious about what she going to write.

    • Rich says:

      When the isotope ignited the dusky sky in a vortex of unstable particles, Zyler-6 balled the fist of the host he was inhabiting in frustration.

      “This can’t be,” he thought to himself. “What went wrong?”

      The containment field should have held until he arrived. Everything was in place. In order. Prepared.

      “I just wanted to go home.” Even these sub-species hominid solids would understand that. It would be almost impossible to gain another isotope, especially in this body. How many more times could he survive a bodily transfer? Three, maybe four, then he would be stuck in this icky mess of flesh, blood and bone until it expired. And he with it. How disgusting a thought.

      There was ice cream though, but the thought of that pleasure wasn’t enough to pull him from his gloom.

      He had to think.

      This host’s authoritative superiors would begin looking for it soon. He’d seen that before. This body did have the advantage of being new, but it was still small and weak. It would take years for it to become effectual for his needs. This mind of this one was strong willed nonetheless, he could feel her mind trying to interject her anxiety into his thoughts. Pushing them down became and effort and tiresome. A distraction he didn’t need right now and he forced her will down into slumber.

      That’s better. One problem at a time. The host’s body started to grumble again. Zyler-6 was never ceased to be amazed by the amount of sustenance these hosts required. It was a miracle they ever got anything done. Well, that’s at least one problem that can be dealt with immediately and when that is complete, he’ll figure a way out of this pebble of self-destruction.

      Maybe he can blow this whole place up when he leaves. Do the universe a favor. That put a smile on his lips…well, her lips.

    • Ella Joicey says:

      What would you do when you know that your whole world was falling apart?
      Lisa Sat on the cold ground watching the sun set thinking the same thing. Everything was falling apart.
      She just got the news that morning and didn’t know how much longer she had. Some how Lisa just knew that today was that day.
      The day where it all ended, where everything she built up around her will disappear.
      She had a stack of letters on her desk back at home with everyone names on. She couldn’t do it, say goodbye.
      Goodbye isn’t going to change anything for her anyway. All she can do now is sit here and watch her world slip through her fingertips.
      So that’s what she did, sat and waited. Watching the only thing that kept her alive, disappear.
      As the sunset and it got cold, Lisa closed her eyes knowing that they won’t be opened again.
      Only the sun will wake up tomorrow but Lisa won’t.

    • Rhodana Lee Harlow says:

      End of the Road

      Solitude unlocked Cary’s mind in the middle of a Midwestern hay field.
      At age nine, after her biological parents were stripped of their parental rights, Cary was adopted by a loving farm family in Iowa.

      The horror of why they were gone still plagued her and she often tried to find answers of her own. Today she decided to embrace the comfort and quiet of the outside and wandered towards the huge round bales of fresh hay and wonderment of nature’s sky.

      A developing tornado funnel, with its bright ‘spotlight,’ suddenly became a vision into her future. She saw it as her own ‘light at the end of the tunnel’ her new parents so often would say when she questioned why it happened and what would be next.

      Cary marveled at the funnel’s beauty and wondered why it appeared precisely at the end of the road. She walked to the left towards a close hay bale and took a peek from behind but it remained at the road’s end. Cary ran to the other side of the road to take a look from behind the tree. Nothing changed. The funnel always kept its bright ‘eye’ upon her.

      She returned to the road as her inquisitive mind started asking “What does this mean?” “Is this a sign into my future?” “Will I learn how to stop the nightmares?” “Will I ever be happy again?”

      Closing her eyes, Cary let her imagination carry her to another world without hurt and without tears. She could hear the crickets chirping and birds in the tree singing to her. Unrelenting tears started pouring from eyes that had not cried since she was raped by her father.

      She ran home and brought her new parents to see the unique funnel in the hayfield. It had morphed into a smaller tornado funnel and was dissipating back into the clouds and the light was gone.

      Cary paused for a moment, gave them both a big hug, smiled and skipped happily back to her new home and her new life.

    • She was here again. The same green field, distant land and the horizon as she saw appeared like melting. The sky seemed to be giving itself to the earth. Rosy stood at the place again from where she could see a bright light that no matter how many steps she took remained at the same distance. The light glowed and dimmed. Rosy looks around but since it is a dream there is only this one frame of time she can see and move in.

      Then it begins to rain. She notices the rain drops as they fall on her. The water was blue and it sparkled. After few minutes it seemed that diamonds were raining upon the land because the field was shining. There was so much light that even the faint glow of the sun that she could feel somewhere beneath the clouds was not as bright as them. She bends down to touch them. But as soon as she touches the blue water drops, it disappears. Was this some magic? She extends her hand to gather some of the droplets but they slide down to the land.

      Then she notices her feet, her feet have also disappeared! She starts to panic now. It was as if she was a cube of ice, slowly melting into the ground. She wants to shout but then no one can hear her. She thinks about her mom. She thinks about lying down in her lap. She thinks about how her mom had saved her from slipping. She finds half of her body gone. She thinks about her face, her hand, extended to her for help. There, she holds it, just as her own hand is about to disappear, she fetches her extended hand and…

      …sees her mother smiling at her as she opens her eyes, the memory of the dream like water dew on leaves.

    • The lying savages finally destroyed it. That’s what her Pa told her once the bright light happened. He warned her the suit men would destroy the world if they’d get away with it. She didn’t want him to be right.

      She clutched the dusty leather bound book to her chest. Was Pa right? She heard him say humans were dirty creatures. They lived in tight spaces. They fought over water and food. They were angry. They were arrogant. They didn’t understand how to live off the land. They didn’t know how to milk cows or roll hay.

      She glanced at her book and wondered if the stories inside were a lie. Knights in shining armor. Princesses wielding magic. Golden dragons flying through the air. It didn’t make sense. How can something so amazing come from the ‘savages’ who blew up the world?

      Her Pa screamed at her. She heard him say something about getting into the shelter before the sun hits them. She didn’t understand. She didn’t care. The last time her Pa took her to the savages, she saw the library. They filled it with all the amazing stories the savages could imagine. She didn’t want to believe they would destroy it all.

      She held her book tighter and whispered the name of the mighty warrior princess. She wondered if she might be her in the next lifetime. Her tears dropped on the pages and she felt guilt for ruining something so sweet and pure. She whispered her apologies to the book.

      It wasn’t as if the rest of the savages cared. They had forgotten the stories they claimed to love and protect so long ago.

      The burning waves of heat and pain washed over the farm before her Pa could get to her. They’d lose the stories for the ages, simply because the savages couldn’t understand them.

    • Elea says:

      When she woke up, she was a girl again, at Uncle’s farm, on the day they took the sun.

      She briefly considered taking up arms to stop it, but realized: her hands are now too small, the whirlwind was too strong, and the equipment hadn’t been invented yet anyway. She was not yet the soldier she would become, and she was helpless.

      So she followed the footpath to Old Man Clamper’s farm instead, past the hay bales and the tree where her Pa and Uncle used to record her height. Pa had been dead for years, but the nicks were still there, clear as the second they were made. After today, Uncle would stop watching her grow up (“What would be the point?” he asked. “Ain’t no growing for you no more. Not with no sun.”)

      She followed the path, heading east, towards the whirlwind. After today, she would join the ranks, fight the war, defend what little they had, and wonder what happened to the sun.
      She followed the path, felt her hair whip about her face. She had forgotten how much hair she had, and how warm the sun had been. She parted her lips, savored the warmth like she did Mueller’s cider before he disappeared.

      She used to wonder what happened to the sun. She squinted her eyes at its brilliance.

      Today, she was going to find out.

      She steps into the hurricane.

    • Kimberly S. says:

      Lilly’s mother tucked her into her bed, as she did every night and told her she loved her and she’d see her in the morning. Lilly smiled at her mother with such brilliant eyes and replied I love you to mommy. Little did she know that this would be the last time she would see her mother this was way again.
      As she drifted off to sleep she experienced so many different visions filling her little head all at once. Lilly felt like she was in a candy store and was able to get all the candy she desired and no one would stop her. But, most of her visions weren’t very clear, this one was different. It appeared with such beautiful, bright, bold, vivid colors it gave her a huge Smile. She continued to look on beyond and there was a luminous white light with a unique feature within it. She was more curious than afraid so she relaxed her hand. The light seems to be beckoning her but it looked so far away. The closer she walked toward the light the calmer she felt. Could this be I’ve only seen his picture in my mommy’s room on the wall. Does he want me to come play with him now? Her smile grew as she is continued walking…

    • The light

      It wasn’t the sun, it wasn’t the clouds, but it was something different that doesn’t happen every day, and she was witnessing it.

      Do you know her name, the one who saw the light?

      They stopped her from school, they stopped her from playing outside, and her country was not at peace. Yet every morning that little girl came out and waited looking at the horizon. Hoping her dad would return, hoping that he would come running to her and hugs her and kisses her just like the way she imagined it. When she walked back, there was no light.

      Before she realized what she had, they took it. She was the best at school, she was a beautiful dancer, and her dad was her biggest fan. She loves telling stories to her little brother in her mother’s womb. She likes playing with her friend Paul. But when it was all gone, she started believing that the world wasn’t beautiful just like they were in her books. It’s so much for a little girl to go through. Yet, when the sirens were down, when people don’t have to hide any more in their basements, she came out and waited looking at the horizon, waiting for her father.

      And finally, it appeared from the horizon. It wasn’t the sun, it wasn’t the clouds, but it was something different that doesn’t happen every day, and she was witnessing it.

      All she saw was light. Was it hope or was it nothing?

      Was it her dad or was it a light from a nuclear bomb?

      The end…

    • Robin Simien says:

      Kate stood perfectly still—as a church mice, Grams said. She sensed his smile as he slipped away “to answer the call of nature”. Back before the bus gets here.

      But he wasn’t back. A breeze lifted her choppy hair, swayed the soft cotton of her Sunday dress against her legs; it was growing dark.

      How long had Grams been gone? She couldn’t tell.

      First Benign, now Grams.

      When you’re eleven, Benign explained. The bus takes you to the Shelter where the kids live. You know—like us—the Special ones. Benign had whispered ‘special’ with a flourish that made Kate shiver.

      You’ll like it. The driver has peaches for kids who don’t cry—we sing and everybody’s happy.

      Kate remembered peaches, ripe and juicy on slender trees. She remembered daisies, too, and the soft buzz of bees in summertime. Before…

      Gravel quivered beneath her sandals. A rumble, a soft growl—her legs trembled.

      The bus ground to a halt beside her, its rough diesel throbbing like a toothache. Air whooshed as it settled on its haunches, and twin doors hissed open.

      Musical voice: In you go, Sweetie, mind your step—right on time, like Grams promised! Kate heard a rustle, a mutter (K-7, K-8—yep, looks like her sister!)

      Here we go! One more stop before they close the Shelter for the night. Another crackle of paper, a word (Canine?), and the bus lumbered forward.

      Kate felt her way down the narrow aisle, touched the back of a seat, and her shaky legs gave way. She sank into the cushion and sat as still as Grams’ church mouse.

      I’m Asix (A-6?), the voice said; Feel under the seat, K-8—peaches in that box.

      A tear tickled the corner of Kate’s eye. K-8?—(that’s what it sounded like) She sniffed it back, thought about peaches and the Shelter. Other kids like her and Benign, (B-9? She made the mental shift automatically).

      … K-8, K-9…

      There might even be some who remembered life Before, when every kid could see.

      K-8 reached for a peach.

    • Deneze Bellenghi says:

      Mary stood in the middle of the road absolutely still, awestruck by what she had created. In the distance, exactly where her family farm stood, a rain storm had formed and stalled there. The rain poured down, accompanied by thunder and lightning. Her father would be so happy she thought. For months, all her father, and the whole county really, had talked about was the drought. Every night at dinner, after she had gone in the kitchen to do the dishes, her father agonized over the drought. He had given his body and soul to the land he loved. As a mere boy he had worked the farm before and after school. He, like his father and his father before him, had learned to love the land. The land was everything. With no crops, the bank would take the farm.
      Mary wanted to jump for joy. She wanted yell and dance right there in the middle of the road but she was afraid. She was afraid that if she moved, the rain would stop. She slowed her breathing. She allowed the fingers on her right hand to loosen their grip on the stone. Slowly she began to feel it’s cool, smooth surface. Holding the stone calmed her somehow. As she continued to caress the stone,she sensed the power in it. She smiled as she watched the rain pour down to save her father’s crops. Yes, it was ok for her to move. Somehow, she knew the rain would continue until the land had been quenched of it thirst.
      Mary brought her right hand up from her side and opened it to gaze at this miraculous stone. It’s azure color was breath taking and unlike anything Mary had ever seen or even dreamed of. As she continued to study it, she wondered. If the stone could create rain storms because she wished it, what could it create tomorrow ?

    • Phyllis l Holliman says:

      as she walk down the pave highway,looking at the rolls of hay to the left of her in a field the grass apear to be loking brown as if their hasent been any rain in a while ,and tall trees to the right of her. With the leaves russling in the the slight breeze And the fact that the sky looks as if its about to explode with a ring coming down to the ground as she continues. To travel alone she lonley highway it look as if she hasent seen another car in a while may be the town is small with

    • Emma always wondered what was that light was from a distance, she had seen it for a month now. She asked her parents what the light was, they said it was an aeroplane but she knew an aeroplane would move. Therefore, one day she saw the light again and she decided to walk towards it, she was frightened at first but she kept walking when she came closer she saw a flying saucer.
      When she came closer to the flying saucer, a long flight of stairs came down and the doors opened, She did not know whether to run or walk up the stairs. She ran back home and told her parents but her parents laughed and told her no more alien movies. The next day she saw the light again and called her parents to come with her but they ignored her. She walked to the flying saucer and walked inside. An alien gave her a doll and she said thank you. The door closed and the flying saucer disappeared. When Emma’s mother called her to tell her dinner was ready, she could not find her. The whole town started looking for little Emma but she vanished.

    • KP Kelly says:

      As an aspiring fantasy author who is often inspired by mythology, I took this photo in a different direction. Although, I was completely motivated by the other stories. Well done, everyone!

      The Banished

      Leaning against his rusted pickup, he watched her still and stoic silhouette as she stared down the road to where they left her. Despite the storm clearing the departure of the gods, the air was tight and sharp around her. He wanted to tell her that it didn’t matter how long she waited – they wouldn’t come back for her. He’d been a Guard long enough to know that truth. He also knew to be patient and give her mind a moment to process and her body a chance to connect with the new environment before he explained her fate.

      “How many before me?” Her quiet voice floated back to him on the night breeze.

      It was an odd question. The Banished usually didn’t care how many he had tested prior to their arrival on Earth, but he knew and remembered every one of their faces. “Fifty-seven before you,” he answered.

      She drew in a quick breath and slowly turned toward him. Her dress was too large for her small frame and she didn’t seem to notice that it hung low off her left shoulder. With a lifted chin, she assessed him through a curtain of blonde hair that floated around her face.

      “How many survived?” her voice was void of any emotion.

      “My name is Odios, thanks for asking. Get in the truck and I may or may not your questions on the way to the barracks.” She lost her freedom for the sin she committed and it would be in her best interest if he got that through her head sooner than later.

      264 words (to be continued…)

    • E. Nicole says:

      Joanna walked through the barn. The iron-stink of blood hung in the air. Every milking cow housed here was dead. The heifer nearest her had been skinned and flayed, neat pile of organs cooled in the early morning chill. Joanna buried her face in her hands. She wondered how Michael would twit this, how he’d make this a figment of her imagination. Michael was under a ton of pressure lately and the farm was doing about as well as their marriage, but this couldn’t be ignored. They also could not keep ignoring Kaytie’s problems.

      The Whent family farm was in the red when Michael suggested they take over. He said it would be good for their family, for their relationship. Kaytie’s doctor seconded the idea, saying the quiet of the New England farm would be good for their four-year-old autistic daughter. That turned out to be completely untrue. While Michael spent his days trying to remember how to run a farm, Joanna spent her days caring for a rambunctious 10-year-old boy who resented his parent for taking him away from every friend he’d ever known. She spent her nights comforting and an autistic 4-year-old plagued with night terrors.

      A rumble that she felt, rather than heard, pulled her back to the present. Around her the boards of the barn shook and as the rumble increased, her teeth itched in her mouth. She took off from the barn at a run. Sprinting through the house and up the stairs, she threw open the door to Kaytie’s room. She was terrified but not surprised to find it empty. Her body shook as she crossed the room to the window. What she saw out in the field turned her blood to ice. A huge circular object hovered above the recently plowed field casting a bright white light out onto the earth. Kaytie stood in the middle of the field and as Joanna watched, she walked into the light.

    • It was a routine that Sarah had gotten used to. Sarah was a city girl; born and raised in NYC up to the age of 13 when her mom and dad decided to move to a quiet rural town. Wide open fields glowing with golden wheat; golden because that was the main economy for many of the residents. Sarah’s mom and dad were different. Sarah’s dad was an attorney and Sarah’s mom a graphic artist. Sarah had dreams of writing. NYC … she HAD TO go back someday. She just had to.

      Everyday came the routine. She would take a walk down the long winding roads; doing what writers do best; thinking! Lots of thinking. She’d start out in day (after school) but dusk always seemed to come quickly. Hard to tell that when in New York…with the headlights of cars and taxi’s and trucks and busses, and neon store signs and street lights in abundance… even the night in NYC was as day! Sarah was not happy in ‘hicksville’ at all .. . she wanted to be HOME…HOME
      HOME I WANT TO BE HOME… everything here is so different. SO DARK. Sarah was lost in what to her was a foreign land. She gave it a whole month…her mom said give it time but … how much time?

      That leads us to this picture…on this particular evening; Sarah stood as motionless as a deer whose eyes got trapped in bright headlights. Sarah couldn’t move. The light was blinding. She couldn’t think of NYC … it was SO-OOO bright. It came closer and closer … and all she could do was stand there. What had her captivated?

      It wasn’t a natural light; it was the transforming light of maturity. It enveloped Sarah; who realized that whatever she had in NYC; she still has. She has her mom, her dad; she has her intellect with which she could write stories of her beloved NYC and share them with folks who never had the experiences she had for 13 years. God had brought Sarah to a place where she could write about what others could not write of….for having lack of the experience. It was a golden opportunity … she would work hard in high school and … OH YES; attain a scholarship; and YES YES … go to one of the universities back in NYC… her world was JUST BEGINNING. She would make close friends in the country and bring a bit of the country to the crowds of NYC who couldn’t leave the city and had no experiences to write of.

      Sarah could write of the city for the country folk and the country for the city folk. That made her a very prolific writer.

      The light awakened Sarah to maturity. Accept where one is at and make your situation work for you.

    • Please be patient, our rather over-active spam filter is holding all long comments (i.e.these wonderful stories) back until we go in and manually release them…

    • Tony Lavelle says:

      It must be true what Aunt Beth said; I must be a wicked child, thought Clara. I am so wicked that God has punished me by taking away my sight. I wish I could explain to you Aunt Beth that I didn’t mean to break one of your favourite plates, it just slipped out of my hands. I am so sorry God that I lied to my Dad when he asked if I had finished my homework. I am sorry I laughed when Billy Sanders fell on the ice and hurt his arm. I am sorry I spilled juice on the carpet and blamed by little brother, who was too young to speak for himself. I know I am a wicked girl God but please give me back my sight and I promise I will never be bad again. I know I must be wicked or I would not have been burned blind by your holy light. I saw your holy light O Lord brighter than the sun shining over Detroit. For my sins O Lord I will walk all the way to Detroit and beg for your forgiveness and I pray that you will give me back my eyes.

    • It must be true what Aunt Beth said; I must be a wicked child, thought Clara. I am so wicked that God has punished me by taking away my sight. I wish I could explain to you Aunt Beth that I didn’t mean to break one of your favourite plates, it just slipped out of my hands. I am so sorry God that I lied to my Dad when he asked if I had finished my homework. I am sorry I laughed when Billy Sanders fell on the ice and hurt his arm. I am sorry I spilled juice on the carpet and blamed by little brother, who was too young to speak for himself. I know I am a wicked girl God but please give me back my sight and I promise I will never be bad again. I know I must be wicked or I would not have been burned blind by your holy light. I saw your holy light O Lord brighter than the sun shining over Detroit. For my sins O Lord I will walk all the way to Detroit and beg for your forgiveness and I pray that you will give me back my eyes.

    • Neil Holloway says:

      Tammy used her hands to brush the surface of the dirt road smooth, then picked up a stick and began to write her name. The early morning sun bathed the fields of hay in a warm orange light and leaves on the trees were still a vibrant green. Something made her stop writing and she looked up. The air that had been filled with the sound of birds fell still and silent. The shadows in the fields deepened and suddenly raced out across the land. A light so intense and white flooded the scene and Tammy threw her arms over her eyes to stop the light but it seemed to penetrate right through her. Then it suddenly stopped and she blinked and tried to focus. She turned around and saw on the horizon a strange white cloud the shape of a gigantic mushroom. She wanted to run and ask her mum what it was. She trembled and stared and watched. A dust cloud was rushing over the distant fields. She felt a breeze growing stronger and the skin on her face and arms prickled. She closed her eyes again and imagined the hot sweet apple pie that mummy was baking. Then Tammy’s name and the hay and the house blew away.

    • Linda H says:

      Dreaming of somewhere over the rainbow, Eloise pondered where the glowing tornado across the golden blanket of beloved Kansas prairie would take her.

      Was that brilliant Light the Most High God, come to share secrets from her cherished mother who traveled to Heaven two months ago?

      Was it a sign reflecting her sorrow and emptiness?

      Or was it to remind her that she esteemed Hands held and cherished her more than she realized?

      Mesmerized by its brilliance, the cloud beckoned her. Yet unable to move, countless thoughts whizzed through her mind as though the distant cloud had captured her.

      A cool breeze brushed across her face bringing her back to the lonely road. The rolled bails bailed yesterday brought her father’s face to mind. Since her mother’s passing he was lonely and distant, like this road that seemed to lead nowhere. Her heart felt empty, broken, reflecting the loneliness around her. Dark. Ominous. Like the distance clouds that held her captive.

      “He’s immersed in his work to heal,” she recalled her teacher saying as she left school that day. “He loves you very much, but his heart is broken, like yours. Love him anyway and give him hugs.”

      Distant thunder spoke as a still small voice saying, “I am with you. Don’t be afraid. You are not alone.”

      A warmth embraced her like a supernatural hug. A mysterious peace filled her and she relaxed. Suddenly the cloud transformed into a powerful sign of protection and refuge; a guiding light drawing her toward it to heal and overcome her grief.

      Birds chattered from the tree. It prospered amid the emptiness. Rain from the dark clouds nourished it. I shaded the cattle and protected the birds. It became a sign of strength and new joy.

      A sense of renewal overwhelmed Eloise as thunder again echoed across the field. Her dad needed a hug. She need to remind him he wasn’t alone in his grief. With renewed hope, Eloise turned and with a light skip started home to be with her dad. They needed each other now more than ever.

    • Marieke says:

      There were two men coming up the driveway. both in expensive suits. by the look of their shinny boots you could tell that they were for the city. I put on my muddy rainboots and walked up to these strange men.

      “Hey little girl is your mother home?” the man who spoke had a husky voice, I could tell he smoked. But what he couldn’t tell was that when he shook my hand my other went into his pocket and grabbed his matches.

      there was something about these men I didn’t trust but I still led them to the farm-side where my mother was milking the cows. I took them right through the cow dung. when mother got sight of us I saw worry on her face. just for a second then her smile returned. mother told me to leave so that she and the men could have a chat. I might been young but I noticed things. I knew that this conversation that they were having wasn’t small talk. It was no secret that mother had been struggling to pay rent for the farm despite of all her countless efforts to hide it. our farm may have been a hovel but it’s still our home and i would defend it no matter what. I grabbed my pocketknife and I cut into their engine. Oil started to drip out on the ground. I than put the knife back in my pocket. that knife was the only possession i had left of my Father. After he died we had to sell everything off him just so that we could eat. then all of a sudden my mother plenty of money.

      I sat on the ground as the man stepped into their car. one had some blood on his knuckles. next time it would be more. as they drove off I stood up and lit a match. I watched it burn and then flicked it on the oil spill. the fire quickly reached the car and all i could think was that nobody could harm my mother. Not them nor my father.

    • Going to the Light

      If you could describe the perfect child, it would be Jessica. Besides being physically beautiful with her sandy blonde hair and huge brown eyes, she was full of love and compassion as well and everyone loved her.

      Sadly, Jessica recently lost her life.

      As she was walking down the sidewalk one day, she noticed her neighbor’s puppy had gotten out of the back yard again and he was about to run into the street. Jessica saw a car coming and without thinking she ran out to save the puppy. The puppy lived, but Jessica died.

      Jessica’s parents were overwhelmed with grief. Their misery was so intense that everyone was very concerned for them. Then something miraculous happened.

      When Jessica died, she didn’t go to the light right away. She saw her parent’s sorrow and couldn’t leave without somehow helping them through this extreme pain. There must be a way to comfort them before she goes.

      Her mother had spent most of her time in bed since Jessica died. Jessica entered her room and saw her lying in bed weeping uncontrollably. Suddenly, her mother felt the bed sink beside her as if someone had sat down. She should have been terrified, but she wasn’t. She then heard a soft whisper in her ear saying, “I’m happy and safe Mommy. You can go on with your life now.”

      Her father was in the living room sitting in his chair. He had gone into a deep depression since Jessica died and it was growing worse. Suddenly, he felt as though someone crawled into his lap, but he wasn’t afraid. He then heard the soft whisper in his ear, “I’m happy and safe Daddy. You can go on with your life now.”

      He looked up and saw Jessica’s mother standing in the doorway smiling at him. They knew that they had both just experienced the same thing.

      Jessica found herself standing in a field close to her house. In front of her was the beautiful light. She knew it was time for her to go into the light now and that her parents would be fine.

    • It was just like any other day, Charlie woke up played with her dog Jake and the two of them decided to take a walk down the old dusty country road that they have traveled together many times. Charlie liked to take walks with Jake, he was her golden retriever that she received from her father for Easter a few years ago. She was an only child and her mother died during childbirth. Travis, Char lie’s father felt the dog would be a good companion for her since she was alone most of the time on their 85 acre ranch.

      They had not traveled far when Jake started whining and barking hysterically. There was an eerie silence that came over the land. The birds were no longer chirped, the breeze had ceased to creep across the land. The then in the distance Charlie saw a strange looking cloud descending down to the ground with Bright lights dancing in the center of it. Then as Charlie got closer she noticed in the distance distance there were small dark figures moving along the horizon. Continuing down the dirt road as she got closer and closer her curiosity grew with each step she took. Charlie noticed that these figures were smaller about her size, but they had large heads, much too large in relationship to their bodies. Strangely their eyes were huge like the oversize sunglasses she had seen Grandma wearing when she took her to swimming lessons last summer. Then from behind came one of the figures, sliding it’s hand inside hers and grasping it in a warm embrace gently motioned for her to continue forward.

      Charlie got the sense that they were not here to harm her, but to befriend her, show her something and share their thoughts with her. They did not have mouths, she thought to herself,. Then as if they could read her mind. A voice spoke in her head that said “please do not be afraid, we come in peace.”

      We know you Charlie, we have always known you and we have come to take you home.

    • She looked like a child standing watching the clouds accumulate into a vast, swirling, almost living thing in the distance. No one could have guessed that it was she, herself alone, drawing that power together and creating something that on her planet would be considered a tiny dust storm. Yet here she stood, on a planet where weather and violence held hands to enjoy destruction of as much of humanity as possible. No one ever thought to actively control weather or even thought it possible in the near future of Earth. It was such a simple act, to control and manipulate weather and deadly too. To a passing neighbor or traveler she might have appeared frightened; a small little girl wondering what it was and if it was one of those things that people hid in terror of accosting their towns, their houses, their family and friends, their very lives ripping them apart trying murder them all with one giant, awful breath. Her race easily played deadly games on this and other planets without so much as a look back. They looked like harmless, sweet, frightened little children, all of them. Just harmless little children.

    • Dan Carr says:

      She’d always wanted to ride a hay bale through the air, was the first thought that flashed into her mind when she saw the giant cloud mushroom into the air. She had done it once in a dream after watching “The Wizard of Oz”. She knew she had scant seconds to fulfill her last wish. As she ran with all her might, she wasn’t sure this was the smart thing to do. According to the stories her Grandma had told her, she was supposed to drop to the ground face down and cover her neck and head with her hands. She reached the closest bale, jumped to catch the top edge, but her hands slipped and she fell onto her back. She rolled over and jumped up. She battled her way up the bale, clasping handfuls of hay and forcing her shoe into center hole in the tightly bound material, finally able to stretch and get a grip in the netting that surrounded the six foot high bale. She pulled herself over the rim and slid her feet toward the cloud. She dug her fingers into the netting and tried to force her feet between the plastic strands. Abruptly the bale jerked and bucked, trying to force itself out from under her. She screamed as the netting cut into her fingers and a giant force tried rip her off her bale. She refused to let go and re-tightened her grasp on the netting. She opened her eyes and saw Mr. Hanson’s farm truck flying in the air. She hoped he wasn’t in it. And then, she realized that her bale was keeping pace with the old truck, she was flying. She couldn’t see the ground, but knew that her bale was in the air too. She saw the truck start to tumble in the air and then drop out of sight. The pressure on the soles of her shoes didn’t feel quite as strong. As her bale started to tumble, she knew it was almost over. As everything went dark her last thought was, “I did it! We flew.”

    • Jessica Milliner says:

      Alia enjoys the outdoors at her family’s home. While walking, she discovers something. The sky was changing into a different color. Alia then saw a shining bright light. As her walk towards the light, the light was getting bigger.

      “What is it?” She thought. Then she discovers something coming out of that light. It was her grandmother Ruth.

      “I’d thought you were dead Nana.” Said Alia.

      “I am.” Said Ruth. ” I’m the angel of heaven.”

      Ruth passed away three years ago. Alia misses her dearly.

      “Nana, why are you here?” Said Alia.

      “I’d wanted to see you for the last time.” Said Ruth. “You didn’t have a chance. I can’t stay long.”

      “Why you can’t stay long ?” Said Alia.

      “Angels have to move forward, but I still gonna watch over you.” Said Ruth.

      The two of them started to talk about the good memories. Ruth even tells one of Alia’s favorite stories.

      Ruth’s spirits signals her that it was time to go.

      “I’m gonna miss you.” Said Alia.

      “Me too.” Said Ruth. “Make sure you’re a good young lady, okay.”

      “I will Nana.” Said Alia.

      Alia hugged Ruth one last time.

      “I love you Alia.” Said Ruth.

      “I love you too Nana.” Said Alia.

      “Bye Alia.” Said Ruth as she walked back to the light.

      “Bye Nana.” Said Alia as she watches her grandmother walked away and the light was getting smaller. The light was gone and the sky turns back to normal. Alia started to walk back home.

      “I love you Nana.” She said as she looked up at the clouds.

    • Eden Wilson says:

      Amy and the other children had spent the day playing on the hay bales in the field but as the town clock chimed six o’clock the children began to run, run towards the village where they lived, towards their family, the schoolhouse and the little corner shop with the best gobstoppers ever.
      All except Amy, she knew something was wrong, she didn’t know what was wrong or how she knew but she called for the other children to come back, for the families to come running out until her throat was raw. They never looked back.
      Amy felt a chill spread throughout her body as a loud noise filled the air, she looked up in fright and saw a menacing black shape she recognised from the news.
      “The planes are coming! The planes are coming!” she yelled but the icy wind that had sprung up whipped away her words.
      As the black shape circled over the village she held her breath as a black shape fell from the plane, a bomb.
      And not just any bomb. As it hurtled towards her home, the place she had lived her entire 7 years of life, the blood froze in her veins.
      The cloud of smoke could be seen for miles around. It billowed into a deathly grey cloud, it wrapped around her as she lost consciousness…

      224 words

    • Hey friends, if your comment doesn’t appear at once, don’t worry. The spam filter we use sometimes holds long comments back. If it holds your comment back, we’ll find it, rescue it, and release it into the wild.

    • Pam Fenandez says:

      The disorienting rush of the wormhole had finally ended, an abrupt ending to which she finally
      managed to keep her footing. The sensation was so unsettling, though Samantha had experienced it a dozen times. There was no time to cry or feel sorry for herself. If only she could find her way home again!

      That first night when it had unexpectedly swept her up, she had vomited the minute her feet touched solid ground, only to collapse in a heap. Solid—the fact that the surface was still moving in waves—or she was—gave the word “solid” a whole different meaning. She acquired scrapes and bruises along the way. Each hostile environment provided a new challenge, similar to a new type of door being slammed in her face.

      That first night was weeks ago, wasn’t it? Worlds ago, from her perspective. She had lost track of time, track of location, track of which galaxy she might even be in.

      The worlds were relatively similar, though the air tended to be tinged with hints of varying metals;
      richer or weaker in oxygen, breathing became a mental process instead of automatic; gravity pulled at her harder, or let her dangle in the air like an unfinished prop in a play. She had seen the landscapes change from barren rock as far as the eye could see, to red oceans pounding against jagged black cliffs, to fields of wheat and barley reminiscent of home. This place looked like home. Were it not for the giant moon peeking over the horizon, she might actually have believed it might be home.

      Exhaustion accompanied this last trip, and as she watched the wormhole drift away into the distance, Sam wondered how many more times she would have to climb a tree, or a mountain, to watch the horizon for that bit of dust which signaled its return. The realization that sleep was just beyond the outermost edges of her brain made her heart pound. If sleep came for her, would she miss her one opportunity, perhaps her very last one, to ride the wormhole home?

    • Tried to post earlier but I don’t think it went through! Testing here to see if it’s working. Will post story after =)

      • As she stared into the distance, watching everything she’d ever known evaporate, Rebecca felt a cold emptiness take hold. The dilapidated schoolhouse where she learned to read and count to 100 would never again provide knowledge to another child. Mrs. O’Neil’s would never sell another home-cooked pie from the window of her small grocery store around the corner. Her home…Rebecca would never again feel the comfort of being home with her family ever again.

        It was all…gone.

        As the gigantic cloud of smoke dissipated into nothingness, along with the rest of her world, Rebecca tried to remember the last words her father had said to her before she ran off.

        But the words wouldn’t come.

        How awful, Rebecca thought. It wasn’t enough that her family had been taken away from her in an instant; but now it was as if they’d never existed in the first place.

        She fell to her knees to cry out to the heavens, but words failed her. What could she even say at a time like this? What words could do justice to her thoughts and feelings at this very moment?

        Then she remembered: Right before he had hurried her out the door, her father had given her a small, folded sheet of paper. She reached into her pocket, pulled out the note, and quickly unfolded it.

        “Rebecca, always remember who you are,” the letter began.

        She couldn’t make out the next sentence, as tears began to well up within her eyes.

      • Hmmm oddly enough THAT comment shows up, but when I paste my story into a comment it doesn’t show…

        • Hey Matt, we are using a hyper-sensitive spam checker on WritetoDone. The poor thing is confused as it thinks long comments could be bad, bad, bad… and it throws them into the Trash folder.

          Our team here at WTD is busy digging out lovely stories, like yours. Every few hours we patrol the Trash folder to rescue comments that have landed there by mistake.

          • Linda H says:

            I’m having the same issue Matt. Posted my story twice, but going to wait to see if it comes up later. If not, I’ll post again. Mary said her team is working on it, so I’ll allow them time to do their magic.

            Great story BTW.

            • HI Linda, we’ve just released your story into the wild 🙂

              Because of the way our spam filter sees long comments, we are having to drag each comment to this post out of the Trash folder.. .:-(

              Please be patient…

    • Alice slipped out of the the house as soon as she heard about the hurricane on the radio.

      While her family worked on boarding up the house, she walked down the dirt road towards it. She heard the frantic tap of hammers nailing boards across the windows. Her father’s voice ordered her brothers to move faster.

      As she walked past the lonely farms, she saw people boarding up windows. A woman saw her and yelled at her to go home. She walked on without a word. She could feel the woman’s agitation and hear her thoughts about rushing out and grabbing her. She visualized the woman going back in, and she heard the slam of a door.

      The wind blew through her hair. It pierced through her thin cotton dress, but she wanted to get just a little closer to the menace.

      She looked around and saw only a dog in a ditch whimpering. She sent a warm wave of love to it, and it quieted down.

      Lifting up her hands, her palms faced the hurricane. Closing her eyes, she sent out a beam of psi particles in an elliptical path. It descrambled the coherence of the wave patterns in the hurricane. With it’s matrix broken, the hurricane crumbled.

      Walking back, she saw that all the houses were now boarded up and no one could see her. Behind her, she heard the hurricane sputter. She thought it sounded as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice cubes into cauldron of boiling oil.

      Since her house was all boarded up, she walked through her bedroom wall and slipped under the bed.

      After a few minutes she heard her mother’s footsteps. “There you are,” said her mother’s voice. “You can come out now.”

      “We were looking for you,” said her mother. “Why didn’t you answer?”

      “I couldn’t hear you, Mama.”

      “It’s okay, honey. You can come out now. The radio announcer said that the hurricane was losing its force.”

      “Thank God, you’re safe,” said her father when he saw her. “Next time, please answer your mother when she calls.”

    • Debra says:

      The Storm

      In darkness you can’t prepare what is coming or about to knock you on your fanny. Nor can you see whats about to grip you from behind. In the darkness you cant see the hole that is before you and will serve to swallow you whole rendering you helpless.

      So when Kitty saw the bright light on the building she had to stop. Was her search for help and protection over? Would she be welcomed and soothed after her many days of wandering alone in the fields escaping the farmhouse which brought her pain..

      Standing there tired and dirty she remembered what brought her to this point in her life. She and her family never saw it coming never even heard the sirens or the winds. It was just upon them as quickly as it was over. She remembered the sudden gusts of wind as the voices yelled “come on hurry up. We must get to the shelter we must hurry…..” Kitty saw her pa standing at the shelter door bracing himself and holding it open as he was reaching for those in the family, she could here her ma and sister screaming as they fought the winds to get to him. But it was not to be for the winds swept them up and took them away. Then it did her pa. But kitty hurried down the steps as fast as her legs could carry her. No matter how hard she tried she cold not save her pa. It was like a force was restraining her keeping her there.

      “Pa! Pa! “She cried as the shelter door closed in response. Now days later she was alone because the storm took her family leaving her to go on alone…. (293)

      The end.

    • Lucille Femine says:

      It was six in the morning and Jessie was gone.

      Joanna skipped breakfast and fed herself, instead, with the light of a new beginning, hoping this fresh newness would bring him back. Maybe he was waiting until he could see.

      He was somewhere in the universe. Was he watching the borning day as well? She hoped he will have some kind of breakfast.

      It was chilly. She rubbed her growing goosebumbs. The train whistle blew, carrying hard-working souls to another day of much toil and far less money. She imagined him, with horror, on that train, taking him away from her forever.

      Joanna was a worried child, having a sick father who couldn’t get up and ride on that train anymore. In that way, she was glad because he was always home now, although she had to wait long hours before he woke up and sometimes, out of pain, he was rude and coughed too much.

      Her mother had run off the year before, having lost patience and choosing a more vibrant partner. She carefully picked someone who vowed never to have to take that train.

      Joanna and Jessie had watched her leave from the window at four in the morning, the engine seeming to curse at the ten-year-old young girl as it started up, as virile as the young, muscular man who drove it.

      “Please come back, Jessie,” she prayed softly, scanning the wide, empty terrain with only one house half a mile down the road.

      From the distance, she could see a car coming up, an old Ford. “Is that Jessie coming back?!” she cried out, stretching onto her toes and shading her eyes with one hand while she waved the car on.

      The doctor got out, greeted Joanna and in a minute, he had examined her father. “We almost lost him, honey,” he told her with his hand on her shoulder. “But he’s fine now.”

      Joanna reached down on her knees and hugged Jessie, her dear German Sheppard. “You saved him,” she whispered into his furry ear.

    • Virgil says:

      Alice was facing the traffic as she walked along the lonely county road. The lights of the car in the distance got brighter. The silence of the night was broken with the sound of the car’s racing engine. Alice came out of her dream state just as the oncoming car was upon her. Simultaneously, the driver looked up from texting as he raced by her. When she go home she had a full knowing of her intuitiveness that would save her life when she went to Africa in her junior year of college. The driver, thankful of his narrow escape from tragedy, never again texted while driving.

    • Ahhh not sure if my comment needs to be moderated, or if it didn’t show up. If this is a duplicate, sorry about that!

      As she stared into the distance, watching everything she’d ever known evaporate, Rebecca felt a cold emptiness take hold. The dilapidated schoolhouse where she learned to read and count to 100 would never again provide knowledge to another child. Mrs. O’Neil’s would never sell another home-cooked pie from the window of her small grocery store around the corner. Her home…Rebecca would never again feel the comfort of being home with her family ever again.

      It was all…gone.

      As the gigantic cloud of smoke dissipated into nothingness, along with the rest of her world, Rebecca tried to remember the last words her father had said to her before she ran off.

      But the words wouldn’t come.

      How awful, Rebecca thought. It wasn’t enough that her family had been taken away from her in an instant; but now it was as if they’d never existed in the first place.

      She fell to her knees to cry out to the heavens, but words failed her. What could she even say at a time like this? What words could do justice to her thoughts and feelings at this very moment?

      Then she remembered: Right before he had hurried her out the door, her father had given her a small, folded sheet of paper. She reached into her pocket, pulled out the note, and quickly unfolded it.

      “Rebecca, always remember who you are,” the letter began.

      She couldn’t make out the next sentence, as tears began to well up within her eyes.

    • Hi Mary,

      Thanks for the inspiration! Not sure how this came out…

      As she stared into the distance, watching everything she’d ever known evaporate, Rebecca felt a cold emptiness take hold of her mind and body. All at once, she realized the immensity of what had just occurred.

      The dilapidated schoolhouse where she learned to read and count to 100 would never again provide knowledge to another child. Mrs. O’Neil’s would never sell another home-cooked pie from the window of her small grocery store down the road. Her home…Rebecca would never again feel the comfort of being home with her family ever again.

      It was all…gone.

      As the gigantic cloud of smoke dissipated into nothingness, along with the rest of her world, Rebecca tried to remember the last words her father had said to her before she ran off.

      But she couldn’t.

      How awful, Rebecca thought. It wasn’t enough that her family had been taken away from her in an instant; but now it was as if they’d never existed in the first place.

      She fell to her knees to cry out to the heavens, but words failed her. What could she even say at a time like this? What words could do justice to her thoughts and feelings at this very moment?

      Then she remembered: Right before he had hurried her out the door, her father had given her a small, folded sheet of paper. She reached into her pocket, pulled out the note, and quickly unfolded it.

      “Rebecca, always remember who you are,” the letter began.

      She wasn’t able to make out the next sentence, as tears began to well up within her eyes.

      • Beautifully evocative of a dystopian setting. Your craftsmanship is excellent!


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