The Calling - A Flash Fiction Piece by JAStar4, literature
Literature
The Calling - A Flash Fiction Piece
Silence crept through the ballroom, with a slight breeze creeping past the wooden doors. The dim lights sparked on, making the soft walls glimmer. Her footsteps echoed through the room.
A smile shimmered across her face. She glanced down at the silver high heels on her feet, with straps spiraling up her legs. Her fingertips touched the edge of her silver dress. She took a step forward.
The room lit up as her imagination took control. She pictured her family and friends walking around the room with their eyes glued on her. The prettiest girl in the room.
Standing in the middle of the room, her eyes caught a glimpse of what she w
Beginning
They say that the wall was built to keep Mexicans out of the United States. I wonder if that’s true because most of us would do anything to get to Mexico, legal or not. I know that I would and will, or die trying. I’m the oldest of 8 children and my family needs me. My mom is too sick to work and her medication cost more than our house. My mom won’t talk about it, but my dad used to do some shady things to put food on the table. When the cops found out, I became the man of the house. There isn’t a lot of work for someone who couldn’t afford to go to school, but I do what I can. Transporting
Biting the Hand that Feed (1225 Words) by dtb84, literature
Literature
Biting the Hand that Feed (1225 Words)
Skeeter’s paws twitched in his sleep. Running through his canine brain were images of his owner scratching his neck while he devoured the soft food that was in his bowl. Then the two of them were out on a hike and Skeeter was off of his leash, running ahead and sniffing the strange smells in the air. Looking over his shoulder he saw Her, his owner, on the trail behind him, smiling. At that moment he heard a howl. Something was hideous about the howl, it sent shivers through his spine and caused a whimper to escape his sleeping lips, he somehow knew it was the sound of a supreme horror, a voice from some outer void. In his sleep, Skeete
Riot
The street was full, packed from side to side. Hundreds, thousands of people, streamed down the avenue.
A low roar came from the crowd. Windows shattered as they passed store fronts. Car alarms sounded, and then faltered and fell into submission. Street signs were bent, and then disappeared into the bulk of people.
They kept marching forward, an unstoppable mass of humanity. Maybe it was caused by ever increasing taxes, it could have been a court judgment that they didn’t agree with, possibly their sports team won a championship. They could have been rebelling against unfair laws, or wars they didn’t agree with.
The angry
An Ark, Gilgamesh and Maybe Even Atlantis-500Words by dtb84, literature
Literature
An Ark, Gilgamesh and Maybe Even Atlantis-500Words
On the top of what used to be a massive glacier, a gigantic lake was forming. For years the water had been melting and accumulating in the basin. Winds swirled around the sides, keeping the edges frozen by their artic touch, while water continued to accumulate.
One day, in the distant past, a thunderous cracking filled the air. It scattered birds, spooked deer and drew the eyes of all. The booming was followed by crumbling, rocks and ice falling from great heights, tumbling down what was left of the once great glacier. Then the waters came.
They rushed out. Their weight had finally caused the retaining wall of ice to collapse. Miles, upon m
(Tribute to Vonnegut)
All of us in that box car, like sardines in a can, it was beginning to smell that way too. So many men in such a small space is unnatural. We were so packed in that we had to sleep in shifts. At any time men’s legs were like fence posts, buried to the knees with sleeping people like mud holding them in place.
We were all privates, all POW’s. I was stuck in a corner, propped up next to a vent. I could see out into the train yard, see more box cars just sitting and waiting. I could also dump the helmets full of shit out that vent.
The man next to me told me how he’d been a hobo before the war, “I