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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✍️ 135 stories
“I Can't Escape” by 【ↇ𝔸𝕂𝕆⇝𝔹𝔼𝔸ℝ 】
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 Enemy*” by . .
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 ac...
“Rise and fall of a...... wall ” by Palak Shah
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. ...
“The Edge of Time ” by Nainika Gupta
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...
“Stories and Memories” by 𝙰𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚢𝚜𝚝 ~
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 sh...
“A Vessel of Death” by Maya -
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 ...
“Chin Up” by Amany Sayed
“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 ...
“Cold Hearts” by Nancy Drayce
“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 wou...
“Here comes Trouble” by Ari Berri
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...
“Plaguing Memories” by Sophie Maselli
TW: PTSD, HolocaustI got up from my spot on the ragged yellow couch, worn beige pants rustling and my knees groaning: small pops and cracks in my limbs. The popping of the joints sounded like far off gunshots: echoes in the harsh, biting wind. For a moment, I was transported back to Europe. Back to--I shook my head, ridding myself of the horrid memories that threatened to flood my mind.I walked to the bathroom, shuffling my slippered feet. Slowly--as if to not break my old, run-down, beaten limb...
“Grandma” by Christina Marie
“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.
“Viva la Revolucion!” by Kristin Neubauer
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....
“Past Americana - Issue #4” by Michael Boquet
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 2<...
“Spirit Of The Rose” by Kylie Wallis
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...<...
“The man on the phone ” by Ruth Porritt
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 Mo...
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