Write a story about inaction.
Posted in Nonfiction on Oct 26, 2022
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✍️ 110 stories
“Ashen Tears” by Kelly Vavala
Ashen Tears Train screeches to a halt. Heavy doors roll away releasing the putrid smell lying within, replacing it with the odor of my fate. Smoldering flames escaping chimney peaks. Remnants of past visitors who never returned. Those whose lives abruptly dimmed by the force of a beast. My empty vessel soon to be on the tip of the enemies shovel. Fallen Tears...
“When Silence is Deafening ” by ℝ𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝔹𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕝𝕖𝕪
I met my husband on May 13th, 2000. I was visiting my grandparents in England, and he happened to come and help them fix their computer that day. He was handsome, dashing, kind, and quite a gentleman. I fell in love with him. He asked me out on a date for the next evening in a small restaurant in Kensington, London, it was about a half an hour away from where I was staying. He told me his name was Joshua Adams, he was two years older than me or twenty-two years old, and that he had one sister named Ashley. After a week of phone calls and ...
“Next Time You'll Listen” by Iona Cottle
“Tea’s late again,” Andrews sighed. “I know. It gets worse every day. We really need to talk to house-keeping.” Smithson shook his newspaper out as he turned the page and tutted. “I see the protesting is back again.” “Wastrels. What are they complaining about this time?” “Who can say. They’re never happy, are they? Want the world for nothing, never want to do a day’s work i...
“Silent Observer” by Jon Dunn
Silent ObserverbyJONATHAN DUNN History was being made, and he was missing it. As was taking place across the nation, his city was holding a public protest against a number of violent acts by police resulting in the deaths of black men and women. The videos documenting the incidents had gone viral, headlining every social media and...
“A Royal Mistake” by Joanne X
I don’t know how it all happened. Screaming. Shrieking. Loud shrills that brought shivers down my spine. People of all ages rushed past me as I stood in the crowded town street. A woman with cropped brown hair and faint wrinkles under her eyes scoops up her child in a hurried motion and rushes towards the bakery around the corner. An elderly man walks across the uneven rubble street with a long wooden cane held out in o...
“A BLACK MALE IN AMERICA 'NEVER' BREATHES FREELY” by Loretta Moore
“A Black Male in America ‘Never’ Breathes Freely” “Mom, I worry about how I’m seen. I feel insecure every time I’m visible, anytime I’m outside, even outside to care for my yard I feel vulnerable. I always feel...
“The Flag” by Kristine Murdock
“Lazy” is not a name or a description I want to be remembered by. Maybe I don’t finish my job all the time, and maybe I lack initiative. But doing things never was my strong suit. Oh, people think so because of my false candor on personality quizzes for online jobs. I make it a rule never to meet in person with a boss or anyone business-wise in person; I don’t want them to see through me. But it seems I can never get out of this unending flow of deceit and trickery, laziness and sloth. Even so, to be called out as lazy sends a p...
“The Chicken Bone” by Michele Duess
I’m not going to have a good story this week. I’m just not. My apologies. I’ve waited too long over a subject that is too hard to write about. Racism. I just can’t come up with anything heroic or life-changing. I had a week too. But my thoughts and words stumble along instead, sentences incomplete, hanging there. All these conversations with no resolution or conclusion. Write a story about inaction, ...
“Please Don't Let Go” by Naomi Irwin
It was...scary. Or no...angering? Maybe even…sadness. It was overwhelming? Like a whirlwind. All of it happening so fast. Never time given to process. It just sort of…happened. Everything was fine, and then…not. Like precariously balancing on a tightrope until you tip off and slowly fall. Fall down and down. It was numbing. It was painful. It was terror like the night. It was painstaking. It felt like forever. Slow, confusing, and forever. It was a burning in your chest and eyes when you try to hold back the tears...
“NIGHTMARES WILL HAUNT MY NIGHTS, GUILT MY DAYS” by Hari Krishnan Suresh
NIGHTMARES WILL HAUNT MY NIGHT GUILT MY DAYSA cold evening, moon struggling in vain to light the world. A strong breeze glided from the hills on the west of town.The streets were bare spare a man in a red shirt and black pants. Another hectic day at a job which he loathed!He strode down the street. Shops were all shut. The monotonous silence broken by a rare car passing by. Shouts of help of a woman and man filled his ears. On nearing the source of the cries, sight of 5 men assaulting the poor couple prompted him ...
“Untitled” by Joshua Armell
When the next big story hit, I was anything but interested.I had grown a recent distaste for the news and big figures in the media for their widespread fear-mongering of the outbreak, so yet another race-related issue seemed like a recycled story once again, though in a sort of blissful ignorance, it proved to be a nice break from the usual down and depressing death tolls.As per usual with these kinds of stories, there were riots, arrests, and lots of yelling.Meh, no thanks, I think I’ll pass. Too loud for me. I prefe...
“CALL IT A TRUCE” by Vivian Nwachukwu
He took a closer look at the still form inches from where he stood and a shudder ran through his spine. Goosebumps were crawling out of his skin like ants from their hiding place. Hot tears fell off his eyes, draining his knees of their strength. His wobbling legs gave way and he fell next to her—her remains rather. The sky seemed to spin around him as he felt his body attain higher degrees of temperature. The severest of migraines took over with a pounding that made him wish for death. His left hand rose— of its own will— to touch her, ...
“Monster on my Chest” by Megan DeRouin
Monster on my Chest There is was again, the monster on my chest. I could feel it pressing down on me and making it hard to breathe. I clicked away from the news feed and rubbed my eyes for a moment while the feeling dissipated. What right did I have? Who was I to express an opinion that lurked inside me when there was something so other about me? I was an outsider, I didn’t know anything. I couldn’t empathize, I could only sympath...
“The Understudy” by Roan De Torres
n. a performer who learns the role of another in order to serve as a replacement if necessary.“She wouldn’t have listened” Justine muttered to no one in particular as she put on her boots that evening. The zipper got stuck halfway through, she yanked, and yanked ‘til it broke. “Shi—!“.She burried her face on her hands then glanced outside her window. The moon was full and proud. It was shining like a spotlight on every grey shadow in her bedroom, and for the first tim...
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