KC Foster

“EMP Survival Part 1” by KC Foster

Submitted to Contest #279

The dish's curved metal dome clanked as Masa tried to lift it. She failed and it resounded loudly as it hit the ground. Her hands went to her ears while she screamed from the pain while its metallic echo bounced back and forth across the dome. She took a deep breath and tried again, but failed.In despair, she beat against the dish. "Help! Someone help me! Father?!" she screamed and burst into tears, nursing her sore hand. It couldn’t be. Why could no one hear her?Masa tried another approach. The rock was soft in one spot so she used a loose ...

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“Meeting Old Man Winter” by KC Foster

Submitted to Contest #276

As I sit here, like all writers do, hiding the truth within beautiful lies, I reach far back at your promptings; far back to the time when someone changed my life. It is hard as a writer of fiction, to tell the truth. We pretend to be so many people and when it comes to the truth, we get so good at burying it in our stories, that it is difficult to share it accurately. I find it hard even in church to share my testimony (my story of coming to Christ) because it requires me to be honest. So, I will pretend to tell you as a friend, the story o...

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“The Proposal” by KC Foster

Submitted to Contest #275

“Dear Agatha, I have finally finished thinking. I am sorry it took so long. Alfred.”The letter had arrived by the courier that afternoon. A small white envelope with a folded letter inside. Agatha brought it to her nose. The scent of fresh paper and cedar wood filled her nose. Along with the letter came tiny wood shavings from the carpenter shop where Alfred passed his time in retirement.They had once been engaged, but Alfred had been free-spirited and at times juvenile, even as a grown man. He had run off to war and chased many women. ...

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“The Game of Life” by KC Foster

Submitted to Contest #274

‘I have cancer. They’ve given me six months,” Rock Cameron admitted to his dearest friends around the poker table, covered in chips, cards and coinage. He scratched his head and stared at his cards. A two and three of clubs, a ten of spades and an ace - all nothing worth betting on. He seemed to recall the ace of spades symbolized death. He frowned and considered folding.He looked up and watched their faces contort into strange expressions of grief, anger, and pity. The same thing he was learning to accept from those around him. At first, he...

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“Love Letters from Belgium” by KC Foster

Submitted to Contest #273

July 27th, 1914Last night, I said goodbye to Thomas at Chelmsford station. He looked so handsome in his green woolen uniform and helmet, bound for the war in Europe. He was excited, looking forward to the action with his friends, looking forward to killing some Germans from the Central Powers. I don’t really care, but I think all this talk of death is foul and I told him so. He laughed and drew me into his embrace. His coat smelled of pipe smoke and cabbages from his family's farm. I traced the lines of his face with my hands, trying to memo...

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“The Choice” by KC Foster

Submitted to Contest #272

Trigger Warning: Drugs, Suicide, substance abuse, mental healthThe world spun around Markus in vibrant colors. A whirlwind blur fascinated his drug-filled eyes, joyful music filled his ears, and the memories were lost in the mix. Everything was a haze and he was finally free from the pain. The moment the memories returned, he took hold of another needle feeling the table beside him, and rammed it into his arm feeling the release and groaned with pleasure, and another. He never wanted to return this time.Everything went dark and the vibr...

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“Assassin's Gambit” by KC Foster

Florian lurked in the shadows, his hand gripping the hilt of his dagger tightly from beneath the sleeve of his long shirt. The street before him was empty, barring the old newspapers blowing about in the wind and the homeless woman in rags feeding the birds beneath the clock tower at the train station. Night had come and the crowds had disappeared to their homes, leaving him in his hiding spot between two government buildings. Worn tracks made by the servants had turned the dirt into mud from the recent rains while they tried to make it to a...

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“God goes on holiday” by KC Foster

Submitted to Contest #271

“I need a coffee,” Aerin groaned, climbing out of the big rig, careful not to slip and harm the babe in the carry pack on her back. Her long brown hair was tied back in a tight ponytail for work and she wore a tank top and comfy pants for driving. Her legs were weak and she needed the small boost the coffee would give her to keep going.“Coffee will ruin your bones,” replied her husband taking her place behind the wheel and beginning the paperwork to start his shift. Piles of logs and permits sat on the steering wheel. Pen in hand he beg...

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