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

“Again” by Eve M. Jackson

Submitted to Contest #80

Nursing a mug of coffee in my hand, I run my tongue over my teeth. I wonder if these dentures would hold up against a punch to the face. The manager of the café frets behind the counter, eyes flicking from the clock, to the large windows, to the television. A presenter’s voice comments that the protest will be turning down this street, that it’s been peaceful so far, but it’s only 10 o’clock, so anything could happen. I admire them, these youngins. In my time, these coffee-shop windows would have been smashed in with bricks before ...

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“Massacre in Sugarland” by Beth Shelton

Submitted to Contest #80

Iberville Parish, Louisiana 1905 The steam-powered engine rumbled loudly as a young farmhand raked sugar cane from a plantation railcar onto the cane carrier feeder outside a sugar mill. The new machine, a back-saver called Walsh’s Rake, was the latest improvement on the sugar cane farms in Iberville Parish. “Hello!” Dutch, a high school senior, shouted to be heard over the engine noise. The farmhand gave a quick nod in Dutch’s direction, not wanting to take his eyes off the moving rake in case it got hung up or detached from the cables...

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“Onesimus and Philemon” by Tamsin Geach

Submitted to Contest #80

The old bishop coughed red blood into the rag held by the bright-eyed deacon. ‘Not long now’ he croaked. ‘I guess I won’t be a martyr after all. Not like Philemon. But he always did win, every way, every time’The deacon who was nursing him sighed inwardly. Here it came again – that old story of the favoured younger brother, the legitimate one, the beloved child, the one who had called Onesimus…‘Do you know what he called me when we were boys? ‘Dusosmos’. ‘Smelly’. He said my real name, Onesi...

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“The King's Trek” by Johan Rosenblad

Submitted to Contest #80

You call this run The King’s Trek. It’s not as if it’s ever been visited by a King, nor is it because it’s particularly scenic or grandiose. It’s just a name, a name you remember from a story you read when you were young about a man, trekking in the mountains and slowly discovering suppressed and disturbing memories. The name of the story was The King’s Trek. The first time you drove through these mountains, they reminded you of things you thought you had forgotten. They reminded you of someone you loved. You are a courier. You drive hundre...

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“Standing Together” by Aburrow Marsh

Submitted to Contest #80

Xavier Matthews entered the room with the dignity afforded royalty, which, in a way, he was. Though slightly stooped with age, he stood tall and proud, with defiance in his eye. He was escorted by a coterie of adult children and grandchildren. I stood to show my respect; even visiting journalists are permitted to show humanity.We shook hands all around. Xavier clasped my hand firmly, a smile tugging on his lips. I did not shake hard, conscious of delicate bones, but Xavier had no such frailties. This man, who had once faced down the Ku Klux ...

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“Freeing the Beautiful Black Woman” by Trishie Chikerema

Submitted to Contest #80

The letter was in a red envelope leaning against the China vase on the white table next to the staircase, too bright for her to ignore its presence or briefly wonder what it was about and who it was from. She mentally went through a list of her friends who could actually sit down to write a letter instead of phoning or badging into her home and came up with a few names. With a thousand thoughts whirling in her head, Tamisa briefly forgot about the letter and instead looked right through it debating whether a shower or just slouching on the s...

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“My Grandmother's Secret” by Indira Krishnamurthy

Submitted to Contest #80

Visiting my grandma is one thing I always look forward to every summer. All of my frustrations after the long and tiring eighteen hour trip from the US to India plus the stickiness and humidity in the air you feel as soon as you come out of Chennai International Airport would fly away from me as soon I see Rajalakshmi who is none other but my grandma. I always admired her for her intelligence and presence of mind. She used to tell me lots of stories from her past. Those stories are always humorous and made me laugh. The warmth of her affecti...

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“Netaji Shubhash Chandra Bose ” by Rinkle Patel 9th C

Submitted to Contest #80

Subhas Chandra Bose, affectionately called as Netaji, was one of the most prominent leaders of Indian freedom struggle. Though Mahatma Gandhi and Jawaharlal Nehru have garnered much of the credit for successful culmination of Indian freedom struggle, the contribution of Subash Chandra Bose is no less. He has been denied his rightful place in the annals of Indian history. He founded Indian National Army (Azad Hind Fauj) to overthrow British Empire from India and came to acquire legendary status among Indian masses. Subhas Chandra Bose...

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“Bits and Pieces” by L.B Rinker

Submitted to Contest #80

I laid there, in that cold white room, on that stiff bed that made my back ache more than usual. I remember the uncomfortable silence, just the beeping of my heart rate monitor, and my own ragged breathing. The bright lights flickered like in a horror film. My suit and tie were hung up somewhere in the facility, but I didn’t know where. I was a slave to the revealing backless gown they had given me, the official uniform of vulnerability. Most men my age had no problem at all walking around a gym locker room on full display...

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“Tales from a different era ” by Navya Jain

Submitted to Contest #80

Pankaj closed his eyes. He was a content man, at 90 with heart problems, diabetes, and Hypertension, that was a rare sentence. He had lived a whole life, had two beautiful granddaughters, one of which had gotten married recently and he had lived to see the day. He had lived his full life and had no regrets. Not one. In his opinion death could come knocking on his doorway any day and he would happily surrender. He thought like that sometimes, then his youngest granddaughter came bundling in, a ball of enthusiasm, talking non-stop and sittin...

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“Protest” by Gerald Daniels

Submitted to Contest #80

PROTEST It might have been because I was escaping the misery of a disintegrating home, my father's drunken anger, mother's unpredictable and reversible moods, my brother's exasperating intellect. Or it might have been because at the age of eighteen I was impressi...

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“THE MAU MAU WOMEN ” by Daisy Jackline

Submitted to Contest #80

My mama can’t go a week without mentioning that grandmother was part of the Mau Mau movement that fought against the colonial rule here in Kenya and even though things have changed and racism is frowned upon; the things she did, seem way far too great for my frail ailing grandmother but I wouldn't put anything past her. She always had a way with words and people so I wasn't as surprised as my little brother Teddy when she said she had been the one to rally the women to support their men in that cold war. The sun was setting in the far w...

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“paper moon” by Taliah Melur

Submitted to Contest #80

Our truck bumped through the potholes in the badly-paved road, and so did my head upon the roof of the car. I pressed harder on my Nei Guan point, three fingers below my wrist, and swallowed back my bile. Rolling outside my window were huge cows milling by flimsy tin shacks, roosters and chickens pecking aimlessly under their swollen bellies. Huge trees shadowed our car with their dappled leaves and ruby fruit, so the inside of our car was stained red. Men lugging water buffalos waved at us as we passed, as well as women carrying reed basket...

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“Remembrance Of War” by George Davis

Submitted to Contest #80

Remembrance Of War—George Davis I remember the year I read about the end of the war in Japan: VJ Day. August 14, 1945. Two of my aunts and I made a large, man-sized effigy of Hirohito, Japan’s emperor. It was six-feet tall, stuffed with old rags, and we painted a face with slanting eyes and a black mustache. We attached a cardboard sign to his rear that said: Kick me. We dragged it uptown and watched as several highly excited locals kicked the cloth effigy. The last time I saw that rag dummy,...

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“War is not an option” by Lynda Ogechi

Submitted to Contest #80

Emeka travelled to his hometown for a visit. It’s been a while since he visited. His grandfather was so happy to see him, to spend time with him. Being an active member of the IPOB (Indigenous People Of Biafra) Emeka and his grandfather Chief Obiora had a lot in common being that he fought in the Biafran war. They discussed how to improve the lives of the Igbo people. From the government to the people. One day, his grandfather overheard him speaking with his friend on the phon...

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

Submissions are closed

✍️ 134 stories

“Again” by Eve M. Jackson

“Massacre in Sugarland” by Beth Shelton

“Onesimus and Philemon” by Tamsin Geach

“The King's Trek” by Johan Rosenblad

“Standing Together” by Aburrow Marsh

“Freeing the Beautiful Black Woman” by Trishie Chikerema

“My Grandmother's Secret” by Indira Krishnamurthy

“Netaji Shubhash Chandra Bose ” by Rinkle Patel 9th C

“Bits and Pieces” by L.B Rinker

“Tales from a different era ” by Navya Jain

“Protest” by Gerald Daniels

“THE MAU MAU WOMEN ” by Daisy Jackline

“paper moon” by Taliah Melur

“Remembrance Of War” by George Davis

“War is not an option” by Lynda Ogechi

🌟 Similar prompts

Write about someone who never planned to make history but is now about to deliver a speech in front of millions.

Write about a child witnessing a major historical event.

Start your story with someone entering a museum, and end it with them settling down to join a sit-in.

Start your story with a major news event breaking — one that will change the world forever.

Contest #80

Enter our weekly contest!

$50

Prize money

672

Contest entries

0

Stories

Win $250 in our short story competition 🏆

Explore more writing prompt ideas: