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Write about a character who is living through a major historical event — whether they know it or not.

Posted in Historical Fiction on Sep 9, 2022

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✍️ 40 stories

Mommy, No!

Submitted to Contest #163

“Please don't, ma!”“You’ve got to hear it from me,” his mother insisted.“I don’t want to!”“It’s the way you’re built.”"What do you mean? Stop telling me!”“How you’re wired.”“Wired? Wires, why?”“Your programming…”“No more talking, I’m confused.”“You’re not a real boy, honey.”Her words stung like angry hornets. With each stab of truth what had been only suspected now was coldly and callously confirmed as reality by a person whom he‘d thought was his mother. But apparently, she wasn’t. As upsetting as that was it wasn’t as bewildering as this k...

76 likes 50 comments 50
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The White Feather

Shortlisted for Contest #163 ⭐️

Emma Whitworth sat outside the post office, just as she had every day for the past week. Her stomach ached. She’d tried everything to make it go away. Ginger, chamomile, peppermint, even that new vapour rub that always gave her a headache, nothing worked. Only one thing could relieve her pain now. She glanced up at the clock tower. It was almost eight o’clock. The office staff should have finished sorting the letters by now. She rose from her seat, took a deep breath, and slipped inside. The minute she saw Mr Finch’s face, she knew that r...

51 likes 40 comments 40
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Mrs. Chesterfield on Deck

Submitted to Contest #163

Mrs. Chesterfield refuses to board the lifeboats. She insists that the boat is not sinking. We have assured her that it is. We have pointed to the ocean. We have said “You see, Mrs. Chesterfield? You see how it’s getting closer to us? It isn’t meant to do that. The ocean is meant to stay where it is in relation to a boat. If it begins to approach, something is terribly wrong.” With a turn of her chin, Mrs. Chesterfield goes right back to her knitting. She informs us with a curt tone that she was promised an unsinkable experience. Rummagi...

47 likes 29 comments 29
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Save Your Strength!

Submitted to Contest #163

I don’t know what all the bloody fuss is about. I’m fine! Just having one of those days where I want to stay in bed that’s all. The number of times the kids have done the same and I’ve had to let them off in case they were ill. Although I do love it when I get the doctor to come round the house and as if by magic they instantly get better. Would be odd doing that now since they’re all grown up with kids of their own. I might get Thomas to help me play a trick on them when they come round. That would be fun. There’s a cobweb on that light aga...

30 likes 12 comments 12
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SALT

Submitted to Contest #163

Violence has a way of breaking you. Even if it’s the other guy whose bones are crushed.The food is all right. Mostly vegetarian. Suits me fine. It’s the sun and the wind; one splitting your skin open and the other rubbing the salt in. I am beginning to get used to that as well. It’s not for nothing I walked miles in the Mexican desert following a General. Or ran across the streets of London as the air raid alarms blared in 1917. After all, my muscles hold the miles they walked to cover stories along the length and breadth of Michigan as a yo...

25 likes 20 comments 20
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The Exposed

Submitted to Contest #163

           Staring out the window makes Scott wonder why he’s in the café in the first place. Multitudes pass by, impossible to spot every individual.  Sitting at his table, Scott notices the hand-holders. The pairs. Those walking together rather than at the same time as others.  A curiosity crosses his mind, at how long some pairs have been coupled. An envious thought enters Scott, thinking how free those pairs are, holding hand on the street.  &n...

23 likes 3 comments 3
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Masters of the Winds?

Submitted to Contest #163

Potential Trigger Warning: historical fiction partially set in 1930s Germany.As the last towers of New York City vanished into wispy clouds the dirty, off-white hue of undyed cotton, I sighed. Seeing the new Empire State Building from the air was an experience I could lord over my schoolfellows back home. Now I understood why they called it a “sky scraper.” Even at normal cruising elevation, we’d been forced to gaze up at the building’s towering spire and avoid circling too close, lest we collide. Boldly, we’d circled over the city, passing ...

23 likes 24 comments 24
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Red Against Blue

Submitted to Contest #163

TW: War, violence, death. Smoke told of downfall. Changing flags represented the end of an era. Red and yellow fire banners of the Isotope empire had become the blue and green waves of the Republic of Entropa.             Kareen saw none of it. “Beautiful morning, isn’t it?”             “Yes mother,” said Anna. “A great day to celebrate the anniversary of the empire.” The daughter didn’t have the heart to tell her imperia...

23 likes 13 comments 13
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Baptisma Pyros

Submitted to Contest #163

The car window is open just a crack. Through it, I can smell the fumes and hear the rumble of the city. I would like to stick my nose out of that crack, but Shannon will say No. I was doing that until she told me to Sit on the seat and Stay. What would be best is if she opened the window all the way: then I could stick my whole head out and still Sit. Something is wrong today. Shannon is driving very quickly, so that everything outside the window whizzes past before I can see it clearly. She is afraid, and her fear makes me anxious. A p...

22 likes 26 comments 26
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A Misguided Memoir

Shortlisted for Contest #163 ⭐️

“A man’s pursuit for wealth and fame is his greatest downfall”What a statement! I hear you exclaim. Please know, dear reader, I’m not intentionally trying to rustle feathers. I’m not trying to make a name for myself and become known for my thinking like the great Aristotle. No, I’m a simple man making a, quite frankly, obvious observation.Although I am now old and suffering from “disease in my legs” (the physician insists it is gout), spending my latter years prostrated on my bed, I have lived a comfortable and fulfilling life. Now that I am...

21 likes 2 comments 2
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"I am Death."

Submitted to Contest #163

The taxicab slows to a stop, the brakes screeching. The driver barely stops in time before hitting the Plymouth in front of them. This isn’t the first time during Oppie's trip the driver had shown himself a bit inattentive. Oppie wonders briefly if the driver got his license from a crackerjack box. This is no time for reckless driving, he thinks to himself. He has to be back at the lab soon, but he'd rather walk the rest of the way than go through that again.He looks out the window, trying to stuff down his feelings of annoyance. Where ...

20 likes 4 comments 4
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Into The Fire

Submitted to Contest #163

Susan stared out the window to the vast metropolis below, and sighed. Despite the vast height of the building she was standing in, and despite it being early in the morning, she could still make out the movement of cars and even people as they went about their daily lives.  Susan worked in an office as a customer service representative; her job was to take calls and help people install their printers over the phone. It was a boring job, she admitted, but a well-paying one, and she’d been there for over three years. She was eager for a ...

18 likes 2 comments 2
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A King's Game.

Submitted to Contest #163

I've killed a man. I don't really know how else to say it; I've. Killed. A. Man. And looking down at his slumped form, I feel a hint of humor tugging at the corner of my lips, a laugh bubbling from my gut. Don't think me insensitive, please. This wouldn't be so funny if he was slumped over his desk, or bleeding out on his bed, or even fell back in the chair... No. The man fell face down in his food. It was a rather good dinner, might I add, dry roasted, Northern-style herring. Very delicious, a bit heavy on the salt. This scene just makes ...

18 likes 3 comments 3
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The Painter of the Morningstar

Submitted to Contest #163

1846, a young man held a brush like a dull blade slashing through the canvas with colours. The light dances through his hand, gilding it with gold and shading it with grey. A dancing bright soul of a human battling with the demons assigned to haunt him.   He himself was nothing impressive, a mere young mortal who held dreams too big for his short life-span to carry. At the age of thirteen, he could paint his own face with its full cherub pink cheeks and hazelnut hair in a way that resonates with the true design of Father's Creat...

17 likes 1 comment 1
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A RAT'S LIFE

Submitted to Contest #163

My name is Ricarad and I am a rat. I know what you're thinking; what would a rodent of my lowly character have to say about anything of importance or the least bit relevant. Would I happen to know a good exterminator? Perhaps my favorite hiding places? Well, you might be surprised. Correction: You will be surprised if you keep reading. For this is my story.My life began under the floorboards of The Bull's Eye Tavern. The Bull's Eye is situated in South London, England. I know this because the tavern keeper had a map of the world behind the ...

16 likes 4 comments 4
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