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Write a story that starts with someone writing their will — one they know people won’t like.

Posted in Dramatic on Jul 27, 2021

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✍️ 183 stories

That Dogwood Town

Shortlisted for Contest #57 ⭐️

Old man Mawson was a timeworn, craggy giant of a man who was older than the hills and who had been the second man to settle in that part of the country. Who was the first man? It was Mawson’s older brother, reportedly murdered by the third brother after a mix-up of who chopped down a certain bloodred-barked dogwood tree in the third brother’s yard. Mawson, the real culprit, buried his older brother in his front yard and kept all secrets and the grave tended for the next seventy years. Mawson had huge beady eyes and ears that stuck straight ...

124 likes 35 comments 35
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And The Rest Goes To . . . My Hippocampus?

Submitted to Contest #57

I carefully brought my shaking hand onto the yellowing parchment. The large calligraphy at the crown of the paper read Last Will and Testament.  It was no secret that I would soon become a mortal, not for a myriad of reasons, but for one enormous one. I was diagnosed with Euphorium Aglacia Dernis, a harmful disease that slowly drives away all immortality from gods.  The quill connected with the old paper, and in circular, swirling motions, I inscribed the words, “I, Chantara, goddess of waterfalls, give my last will and testament...

86 likes 135 comments 135
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Opaline's Will

Submitted to Contest #57

...equal amounts of money for all 10 of…. Opaline sighed and looked outside. It was raining outside and inside the house. She wiped a tear off her face as she recalled why she was even writing this will. ***She was walking down Walker Street, talking to her servants. “Next month is the family reunion, and--” Opaline did not have time to finish, as she clutched her chest and fell on the floor. A swirl of emotions rose in her chest as she desperately tried to stand up. Her legs were paralyzed, and her bag fell over, spilling the cont...

85 likes 31 comments 31
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So Not A Gamer

Submitted to Contest #57

An older gentleman in his early fifties sits at a large, mahogany desk inside an elegant and luxurious study. Books and antique trinkets are displayed along the wall to ceiling shelves behind him. The lack of windows makes it so natural lighting is nonexistent, and the air of the room is stuffy but professional. Despite his unkempt facial hair, it is clear this man generally has a refined demeanor about him, but recent troubles have caused him to become a bit neglectful of his personal care. He looks to a paper and pen that ar...

76 likes 22 comments 22
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A Poor Man's Gifts

Submitted to Contest #57

In a cottage by the wailing sea,  An old man, a poor man, Wears his coat nearly seventy years old, His deathbed made two weeks early, Fresh linens draped over the pillows.  He sat, somberly satisfied, Raspy coughs churning in his belly, A visit, Maybe one last visit to a special place.  Somewhere he needed to go. Poor man, rich man, He smells the air ‘round him, Takes in a breath, realizing, He is at the train station, Pen and paper in his pocket, Waiting and watching for the right time. There is nobody who can find him, S...

68 likes 11 comments 11
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"naomi," or 1 million butterflies pinned to a wall

Submitted to Contest #57

I don’t know much. That’s what college was supposed to fix. I read big books with big words, Susan Sontag, Karl Marx, Arendt, Foucalt, Nietzche, Sartre. Each flip of the page was a hand on my shoulder, twisting me in a new direction. I graduated dizzy and confused, uncertain what anything was, whether anything was real. Ask me what I read for my senior thesis and watch my eyes dim and fog. They only taught me to question the world, and they provided no answers.  I don’t know how to write a will either. I thought that would come later....

63 likes 36 comments 36
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To My Four Hearts~

Submitted to Contest #57

To my Dear kids and Grandkids~Hello its Grandma Thora, or mama to my precious children. You’ve all grown up so much. My dear dear grand kids, I know many of you have never met me and it breaks my heart that the day you see me will be in my cold shell which carried my long gone soul. I’ve always wondered why you never visited me, I started you, I built you in my stomach for 9 months. I begged for money everyday just to give you, my precious children a future. I became rich! I got you into the best schools…but yet, I guess it was never enough....

53 likes 95 comments 95
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On your shoulders will lay the fate of a kingdom.

Submitted to Contest #57

-Are you sure, darling?” The deep voice came from a corner of the room. It was a man’s. He was in a suit, a cigar in hand, looking out the window at the street. It was a rainy night. No one was outside at this time, in those conditions.  -Yes, I am.”  At the desk in the middle of the room, a woman was writing. She was young, twenty five at most, her red dress shone under the candlelight. She was sitting straight. In her hand, there was a long white quill filled with dark blue ink. The paper was stained by tears.  The man turne...

47 likes 18 comments 18
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Weary and rusted

Submitted to Contest #57

I Cecil Lowbrow hereby write my will as follow. The day was dark the hour were late. She sat on the plush chair underneath me. Writing, a thing I have seen her do often lately. As she wrote she spoke. She didn’t speak with fondness like she does with her cats nor hatred like she did over the telephone, she spoke with determination. I didn’t find it off though. People were sometimes determined, I have noticed over the years, or sometimes they just knew that time were ticking by and that they too need to get everything ready for the so ca...

42 likes 13 comments 13
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In the Books

Submitted to Contest #57

Ruth Elis sat on a squeaky, worn chair located on the top floor of Ollowood Library. She had a plain sheet of paper laid out in front of her, eagerly waiting to be written on. She dipped a quill pen daintily into the ink bowl, wiping off the excess before laying it down on the page. Ruth had just turned eighty-four years young only two days ago. She did not have any family nor did she have friends to keep her company on that special day. Instead, she spent her day with the worn, aged books of Ollowood Library. She was alright with that, thou...

41 likes 9 comments 9
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Lady of the Manor

Submitted to Contest #57

“ENOUGH!” Time may have stripped the power from his body, but not his words. He would be heard. “If you ask me if I’m sure one more time, I’ll use another solicitor’s office and you’ll lose your fee as my executor!” Arthur knew how to motivate men; he’d made his living out of knowing, and for this man it was money. It always was with lawyers. “My apologies sir, I have a legal obligation to –” then the lawyer stopped himself in time, before saying ‘ensure’. Arthur held the eyes of the lawyer in silence; a silence he intended to make as unc...

38 likes 13 comments 13
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advanced disaster preparedness

Submitted to Contest #57

Today is a damp day. The August heat broke a few days ago; we turned the air conditioner off and opened the windows. We reveled in the breeze that fluttered our curtains and the fresh air that filled our lungs. But last night, it rained, and the damp air creeped through the windows, leaving our furniture and clothes and skin feeling sticky. I’m reminded of the summers I spent at camp, sleeping in a cabin and waking to find myself wrapped tightly in a sleeping bag that had dampened overnight. Those thick and dewy mornings always burned into h...

37 likes 20 comments 20
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Bright Months

Submitted to Contest #57

The date was 2054, August 14th, when the first baby in Georgia was born with a power. Then in September another baby was born with power. Then again the next Month, and again after that, only in Georgia.     Once every month a baby was born with power. Every Month has a different power. The American government rounded up all these babies and put them in camps scattered across the Nation, but one time something extraordinary happened.     A mother gave birth to twins in January. One twin didn’t have any power and the o...

34 likes 5 comments 5
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Bisection Method

Submitted to Contest #57

Molly“To my daughters I leave my life’s work. You will always be my crowning achievement (inasmuch as I can take credit for you), but second to you there is this: snail slime.“Do you remember the first time you held a snail? I must have placed one in your chubby, outstretched palms. Maybe we found it on one of our walks after the rain, Lesma—leaving its glistening silver trails over a pungent sidewalk. Or maybe searching through the bushes for flowers to make your perfume, Zoa. Do you remember the way its body would bend, that long foot curl...

32 likes 10 comments 10
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Will for All

Submitted to Contest #57

Under the dim lamp light, long, thin fingers were holding an expensive-looking pen. The fingers hesitated for awhile, then they scribbled their owner’s last will on the white paper. “I hope they can understand at the very end,” mumbled the husky voice of the man who finished signing his name on the paper.  “Mr. Atwell passed away this morning. All of his lineal family members gather at the Atwell Manor. “Receiving the message of their father’s death, son and daughters of Atwell alarmingly set off to the Atwell Manor. First to arriv...

32 likes 7 comments 7
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