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Write about a character who’s obsessed with an era they never lived through.

Posted in Adults on Oct 26, 2022

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✍️ 100 stories

Neon, Glitter and Alien Parties

Submitted to Contest #61

Dawn Walker was an interesting woman. How I had come to this conclusion, I did not know. Between her refusal to watch anything on a screen that is more than four inches deep and the weekends she spends throwing neon-glitter-alien parties, I had plenty to choose from. This was not enough to stop me from loving her, however, no matter how many crazy 2020s themed parties I got dragged into participating in, I always stuck around. Curse my tender-hearted nature. “Harita!” Dawn calls my name, holding up a sparkly blue dress. “Try this on!” Mak...

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How To Deal With a Neo-Nazi Of a Trump Supporter

Submitted to Contest #61

It was a fine day somewhere in La Jolla, San Diego and everyone was out and about...and even Persephone Amelia Shapiro was no exception. She was going to a local bookstore, where she decided to buy a Jane Austen book called “Pride and Prejudice”, so buy the book, she did. You see, there were times that she would’ve loved to have been born in the mid-18th century, since the dresses back then were very beautiful. Plus, Persephone had seen lots of girls wearing revealing clothes in public, mostly bare-midriff tops, either booty shorts or micro-...

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The Burden of Perplexing Words

Submitted to Contest #61

Havenwood lunatic asylum sits atop a hill on the outskirts of Blackpool and has done ever since Eighteen Sixty Four. This is where I live now. My name is Elena Marchant and I’m a lunatic, apparently. My father didn’t take kindly to my unusual vocabulary, and so he had me locked away in here. He said they can throw away the key for all he cares. He is ashamed of me, I’m nuts he says. No daughter of his, no longer the primrose he nurtured. Nor will I ever be now. I dare say he is much more concerned with what people will say than he is about m...

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A character obsessed with an era they never lived through

Submitted to Contest #61

Phrases like; articulation of failure and failure of articulation, eat to live or live to eat, he died to live, these were the best of times and these were the worst of times, seems to be foregrounded in the mind of Karamazov, when he thought of era that he seems to be obsessed with. On dwelling further deep a couple of centuries before the nineteenth, somewhere between seventeenth and sixteenth century was the century Karamazov was obsessed with. This obsession was for half a dozen reasons, if not more. With some insight into Historiograp...

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Jorney of Rebirth, Rediscovery and Reformation

Submitted to Contest #61

Prologue Classroom Setting: The English teacher  Teacher Mrs. De Locas: The topic of the week will  be about the historical era and the question is to tell us which historical era interests you the most and why. It is an individual presentation that each one of you will let me know what historical era you chose so don’t end up having many students presenting the same era. I know each one will be of different opinion or different interest but I want you to expand your knowledge on other eras. PLease come forward and write your t...

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Dreams

Submitted to Contest #61

       She is standing on the other side of the glass, watching magic happen. She is some part of the sound crew–is that even what they are called? What exactly do they do? She has no idea, but she is there, on the other side of the glass.             The band members keep taking turns in and out of that room. Sometimes, all of them are in there, but usually, it’s just one. She’s watching them all enter and exit and take their turns, and she is abs...

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The fate of a knight

Submitted to Contest #61

Knights are confident in their ways of protecting the kingdom. But I don’t have a kingdom to protect all I have is chaos. Death is in the air. And I’m not in the fairy tail I always wanted. I’m unstable and can’t trust anyone anymore. The last person I trusted was my Grandfather who was so stuck in the past he couldn’t even remember his own name. But no Iw he’s the past. He pasted away lasted it month in his sleep. The last thing I hear from his mouth was the screams of joy from his dream’s through the walls. It was a good one too. I’m posit...

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Out of Time

Submitted to Contest #61

“Now I’m sure you’ve gone crazy.” They were both standing in the middle of a poorly lighted attic room, looking at a chaotic array of papers, notes, and images hanging from a brick wall. Old and faded photographs, newly printed satellite pictures, torn pages, and unintelligible, handwritten scraps were fused into a senseless mass. At least, senseless to anyone but him. She waited for him to protest, or to ramble on again. He said nothing. His eyes were fixed on his cryptic creation. Luna looked at him, concerned for his friend and his rec...

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Ellie's Obsession

Submitted to Contest #61

Diana Monroe tried to make herself comfortable in a chair meant for an eight-year old as she settled in for what she knew was going to be a well-meant lecture from a woman ten years her junior. The only adult chair in the room was occupied by her daughter’s second-grade teacher, Ms. Lovell, whose abnormally pink lips pressed tightly together and whose brown eyes observed Diana with a look that said I’m surprised you look so normal.  Ms. Lovell was, as her name might suggest, a lovely woman, even tempered and patient, and a seemingly pe...

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The Terrible Good Old Days

Submitted to Contest #61

The Terrible Good Old Days Suzanne Marsh “Oh, for the good old days, when things were not as complicated.” I was all for living in the past, it had to be better than 2020. My dream was to restore the Chatsworth Ranch, just outside of Belton, Texas. We had moved to what had once been a cow pasture, that was where our home was. Dad, always chuckled when I would mention the good old days. I thought it would be easy without electricity, cell phones, pollution, no traffic, just horses. All the things we face today in 2020. Dad, decided it was tim...

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Rosaline

Submitted to Contest #61

Disco lights. Loud music. Wild People. I sighed and drank my liquor straight. The bartender is eyeing me but my sex hormones are nowhere to be found. I am wearing a gucci tube top with a short shorts bottom. My typical outfit everytime we're on a night out. I saw my officemates having fun on the dance floor and when I say fun- it involves making out with some babes and hot dudes. Good for them.  "Enjoying your alone time, sexy?" A mysterious man appeared and sit beside me. I can't see him clearly because of the throbbing lights plus...

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Atlantis Quest

Submitted to Contest #61

“Mental time-travel is one of the greatest gifts of the mind. It makes us human, and it makes us special.” Claudia Hammond A crowded room: every chair taken; an expectant hush permeated the air. The lecturer looked over the gathered parties and said, “Good morning my fellow Atlanteans; my fellow Lemurians.” This was going to be a great experience thought a young lady in the front row. Kathy always had a fascination for all things Atlantis. To her way of thinking it must have been an amazing place. She got to the l...

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1950s the Era

Submitted to Contest #61

     I don’t know why, but for as long as I can remember, I have been obsessed with the ‘50s. Everything I have learned about it has exhilarated me. I constantly daydream about living in the 1950s. I even own things that were from that time.       My room is covered with things of and about the 50s. Like my big black album book, that has dozens of photographs that were taken during that time period, which I have collected from various friends, family members and neighbors. Some of the ph...

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The Civil War Kid

Submitted to Contest #61

It was Saturday. Saturday meant one thing: It meant pulling out the box of Civil War memorabilia Jack had been collecting and going over everything. It meant using his father’s laptop and researching (again) the things in his collection. Reading. Some notetaking. Putting everything back until next Saturday when he would do it again. First thing’s first. Jack got dressed and went downstairs for breakfast. His parents were still asleep. Jack was sure to be quiet and make sure he didn’t disturb them. After he had his breakfast, he unplugged hi...

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The Victorian Imposter

Submitted to Contest #61

“How long has she been at this?” Taylor asked her mother Paula. “At least an hour and a half,” she replied.  “Jesus. And for how many days now?” “28.” The both of them sighed at the site of their daughter and sister Lucy dressed in traditional Victorian garb while digging through the side of a hill, the site of a cold case murder from 1999. “Bloody hell!” shouted Lucy, the Indianapolis native. “Oh,” Taylor started. “She has a British accent now?” “Yeah, it started last week,” her mother replied.  “Bollocks!” Lucy stomped her...

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