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Write a story about inaction.

Posted in Nonfiction on Oct 26, 2022

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✍️ 106 stories

A Pleasant Evening

Submitted to Contest #45

             “That was nice, a very pleasant evening,” she said.              “It’s not over yet,” he said with a grin.              “You old hound dog,” she said, patting his thigh as he drove.              He searched for any erotic undertones in her reply, and was sad ...

17 likes 2 comments 2
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Ashen Tears

Submitted to Contest #45

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~ Turn To Ash “But this is our Ancestral land!  We’ve reaped and sowed to feed our families.  Watch your twisted, mangled angry face, shine wi...

15 likes 32 comments 32
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Next Time You'll Listen

Submitted to Contest #45

“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 in their life. Blast it, where is that tea-lady?” “Ring the bell again, old boy. Drat it all, we have to go to the chamber anyhow.” With a sigh Andrews downed the l...

15 likes 4 comments 4
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Silent Observer

Shortlisted for Contest #45 ⭐️

        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 news outlet. The country was in an outrage, demanding justice and change. Today was his chance to be a part of something bigger than h...

14 likes 4 comments 4
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When Silence is Deafening

Submitted to Contest #45

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 a f...

14 likes 10 comments 10
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A BLACK MALE IN AMERICA 'NEVER' BREATHES FREELY

Submitted to Contest #45

“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 I’m compromising my sense of safety,” my son Michael sadly related to me.    That particular evening, my thirty-five-year-old African American son and I had a conversation by telephone the uprising the ‘George Floyd’ murder triggered. Michael mentioned distinct instances, some I recalled that...

14 likes 9 comments 9
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The Flag

Submitted to Contest #45

“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 pang to my che...

13 likes 7 comments 7
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A Royal Mistake

Submitted to Contest #45

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 one hand and a battered leather lead line in the other. An old and tired looking brown horse is attached to the end of the ro...

13 likes 5 comments 5
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The Chicken Bone

Submitted to Contest #45

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, I think. There’s irony for you. I’m pushing the deadline because I can’t get started. I could tell about how I once offended a friend by telli...

13 likes 2 comments 2
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Please Don't Let Go

Submitted to Contest #45

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 but fail. It was the ...

13 likes 9 comments 9
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NIGHTMARES WILL HAUNT MY NIGHTS, GUILT MY DAYS

Submitted to Contest #45

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 to intervene. He ran towards...

12 likes 11 comments 11
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CALL IT A TRUCE

Submitted to Contest #45

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, but...

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Monster on my Chest

Submitted to Contest #45

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 sympathize. Even now as I refused to look at my compute...

11 likes 3 comments 3
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The Understudy

Submitted to Contest #45

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 time, she didn’t find it comforting. It was quiet, too, she thought, as if the...

10 likes 4 comments 4
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The Things I Didn't Do

Submitted to Contest #45

The Things I Didn’t Do The nurse has come in to change my bedsheets again. I have grown so weak that I can no longer help by rolling myself to the side. It is torture to be a prisoner in my own mind. Do I somehow deserve this? “Mrs. Wilson, how are you today?” I feel her take my hand, “Can you squeeze for me?” I open my eyes and search for her face. I am trying to speak, but I’m just so tired. Is this really how it ends? Is there even a heaven or hell? and if there is, which direction will my elevator take me?&n...

10 likes 3 comments 3
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