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Write about an elderly character who was part of a historic movement years ago.

Posted in Historical Fiction on May 19, 2021

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✍️ 134 stories

I Can't Escape

【ↇ𝔸𝕂𝕆⇝𝔹𝔼𝔸ℝ 】

Submitted to Contest #80

All of us soldiers were packed into a van, like cows in a pen. I saw the battlefield, with falling and fallen soldiers, with blood and rain carpeting the once-green field. Bullets were flying everywhere as the sound of firing and explosions rang through the battlefield. The soldiers in the front line dropped dead one after another like trees being uprooted in a massive tornado. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The smell of blood and gunpowder was fresh in the air. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn't think. My mind was in o...

116 likes

The Enemy*

. .

Submitted to Contest #80

TW: war, violence, PTSD “Run, Percy! They’re coming!” The sound of gunshots infects the air, poisoning my ears. I can feel the gas seep in through the barracks, setting my lungs aflame. There is no mercy, no prisoners. Only pain and death. Tossing my rifle over my shoulder with a grunt, I make for the next camp. You didn’t need to be in the crossfire to know what was going on outside. The Nazis had come, and they would kill us all. Running across the dense camp, pushing through screaming sergeants and fellow privates, I s...

81 likes

278 comments 278

The Edge of Time

Submitted to Contest #80

March 1807John Coulter slowly took off his hat and fell to his knees, staring down at the canyon glowing with dark orange, yellow, and tinges of red hues. The roaring river fell hundreds of feet and meandered its way down the canyon that it had carved into for millennia. A sharp cry made him flinch and his eyes tracked the flash of brown and white as an osprey carrying a fat trout winged its way to its nest. He smiled as he watched it drop the carcass to its hungry chicks and returned to gape at what he had quite literally stumbled across.No...

74 likes

128 comments 128

Rise and fall of a...... wall

Palak Shah

Submitted to Contest #80

Tearing up pages, Stephan hauled them into the bin; missing a few shots that went directly into the vase next to it; but he couldn’t be bothered to pick it up. No, he had to write a 500 words history essay, which was due in for tomorrow, and unsurprisingly he forgot about it. Moaning and groaning, he scribbled out everything he had written; whilst slashing through the page and ripping it into shreds. “What is all this noise?” asked Karl as his brow furrowed; one eye darted across the room and the other one followed: there were heaps of scr...

73 likes

Stories and Memories

𝙰𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚢𝚜𝚝 ~

Submitted to Contest #80

The rocking chair rocked back and forth, forth and back, squeaking like a mouse.Creak creakThe dark wood was polished and smooth, little tendrils of chestnut snaked across, covering the whole chair. Creak creakShe ran her hand across the armrest, her light skin illuminated by candlelight in the winter storm. The wind blazed and tore at tree branches, the temperature threatening to lower below sub-zero, so even the penguins in the zoo would be shivering.“Grandma! I’m here!”The door slammed open and clanged against the wall, the candlewax...

72 likes

A Vessel of Death

Maya -

Submitted to Contest #80

𝓐𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻'𝓼 𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮: 𝓘 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓶𝓾𝓬𝓱 𝓽𝓸 𝓼𝓪𝔂 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼. 𝓘𝓽'𝓼 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓽 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓘 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓵 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓲𝓽 𝓶𝓸𝓼𝓽𝓵𝔂 𝓯𝓲𝓽𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓽. 𝓘'𝓶 𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓵𝔂 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓼𝓾𝓻𝓮 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓲𝓽, 𝓼𝓸 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓭𝓫𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓲𝓼 𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭. 𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴𝓼 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰!Six years.That’s how long I spent on that ship, the ship that never seemed to go anywhere good. The wind took our sails from one bomb to another, one battle to another. Never anywhere good.I didn’t have a purpose there, they could have survived this thing they call a “war” without me. A few extra rats don’t make the difference between life and death. Bu...

68 likes

155 comments 155

Chin Up

Amany Sayed

Submitted to Contest #80

“Keep your chin up, Ciara.” Her mother pressed cold fingers at the bottom of her face, forcing it forward. She was angry, not at Ciara, but at the world for making it seem like she had something to hide away from. Something to be ashamed of. “You be ashamed for something you chose to do, you hear? Like those nasty men rotting away in jail cells for their own bad and wrong decisions. The darkness of your skin is not a curse. It is a blessing.” Ciara nodded. It didn’t feel like a blessing, not when the pretty blonde princesses at her sch...

63 likes

Cold Hearts

Nancy Drayce

Submitted to Contest #80

“My body felt numb. The dirt over my green uniform made me feel sick. The innocent people's blood, stained the piece of fabric the military granted me. Crest of freedom; Homeland crest; for me the betrayal of humans. Do I regret the day I accepted to wear that uniform as an honour? Yes. I should have fought and stood by my ideals, but I was weak. We were all weak for following the rules so blindly. Kill or be killed. Instead, there shouldn’t have never been that phrase. Don't go, don't fight, don't kill, and we would all live in pe...

60 likes

Here comes Trouble

Ari Berri

Submitted to Contest #80

13th part of Home. Nothing to do with prompt.Daniel yawns, and sits up. He reaches for his phone, then remembers it’s broken, and his hand drops. He wants to call TJ, so he goes to Angel’s room to see if she’s up.Music is playing from behind the door, so he assumes she is. He knocks on the door, and after a second, she opens it, and smiles.“Morning, Daniel.” She says. “What’s up?”“Um, I was wondering if I can use your phone to call TJ?”She thinks about it for a second. “First tell me what happened yesterday. Why’d you get so quiet?”“My dad c...

56 likes

134 comments 134

Grandma

Christina Marie

Submitted to Contest #80

“Let’s play a game.” Grandma pushes aside the flyers and coupons littering her kitchen table to make space for the yellowing cribbage board—a brittle piece of plastic molded into the number 29.I collect the dishes from the coffee and stale cookies she’s been saving for my visit and place them in the sink. Using the crocheted rag that always hangs over the faucet, I douse the cups and saucers down with soapy water and rinse and stack them in the drying rack. Despite our persistent pestering, there’s still no dishwasher.It hasn’t snowed yet, b...

41 likes

Viva la Revolucion!

Kristin Neubauer

Submitted to Contest #80

Author's note: The return of Dr. Ingalls, psychotherapist to historical figures. His first appearance was in "'Tis a Lie!" way back in September (Contest 57), featuring his session with George Washington. In the comments, I'll put a note about what is true and what is fiction in this one.Dr. Ingalls is tapping his pen on his legal pad as he waits for his next client. He looks at his phone. The client is already eight minutes late and Dr. Ingalls underlines the observation he made the previous week.Routinely late for appointments.At...

39 likes

Past Americana - Issue #4

Submitted to Contest #80

PAST AMERICANAIssue #4 - "Stop The Vote"Written by Mikey FlowersArt by Gustave BeauregardLetters by Josephine Renaut.PAGE 1Title at top of page.Credits along bottom.In between, include the following disclaimer: This is a work of satire. The views expressed herein do not necessarily represent the views of the author, artist, or publisher.PAGE 2Panel 1Wide shot. Day. Open on the back of a farmhouse with a wide porch. Draw the scene from a high enough perspective that we can see the street and driveway behind the farmhouse. A man sits on the po...

36 likes

Spirit Of The Rose

Kylie Wallis

Submitted to Contest #80

Madison Saunders loved and admired her Grandmother Agatha for many things. At eighty nine, she remained active and healthy. She worked within her own lifestyle village, helping out the less fortunate whenever she was able to. Yes, she used a cane, but it was mostly for balance.Her posture was straight and she walked with confident strides. No bent backs or shuffling footsteps around here. Madison never tired of listening to her grandmother tell stories from her past. She was learning something new all the time...####During the 1980s, when th...

32 likes

The man on the phone

Ruth Porritt

Submitted to Contest #80

I was home by myself, babysitting my annoying sister, Susie. At the time, I hated her because she was everything I wasn’t—cute, (with her blond pig tails and perfect, porcelain doll smile) gregarious, and pint-sized.Again, at the time, (the summer of 1969) I had shot up like my mother’s prize-winning sunflowers, and I remember feeling tall, unattractive, and unwanted. In reality, looking at Kodak shots of myself from this period, I see a 14 year-old girl with long, wavy blonde hair and legs that made me look like Kate Moss. (Heroin-chic, any...

30 likes

Misfortunates Have Friends Too

Arya ...

Submitted to Contest #80

"GET OUT OF YOUR SMELLY ROOMS! BLOODY MEAT-EATERS!," the aggressive yell near his window woke up Mr. Rai who had been dreaming of his deceased wife. Snug in his comforters he tried to hold on to her face in his dreams, concentrating on her wrinkled cheeks, her gentle dark eyes and the mole just above her lips. "COME OUT! OR I'LL CALL THE POLICE." This loud yell finally shattered his fantasy making Mrs. Rai stuck her tongue at Mr. Rai and disappear with a wink. He left his bed and went out to his balcony, to his no surprise the...

28 likes

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