All of the village’s warriors stood waiting on the shoreline while their leader looked out across the water from further up.
“The Seer said the raiders would attack today. Expect to see their longboats at any moment.” He warned them all. They all stood there looking out at the water. Some were armed with bows, some with spears, and a select few had swords and other weapons such as flails at the ready. They waited for hours, but saw no sign of a war party approaching.
“Are you sure the Seer got the right day?” one of them eventually asked.
“She’s usually extremely reliable.” The leader replied. “Maybe she was wrong about today.” No sooner had he said that then there was a sudden rough tapping on his left shoulder…
Word count: 130
This was written with the photo prompt provided by Crimson’s Creative Challenge #134.
Over the weekend we had quite bad flooding here from four days of intense rain. To add to this we’ve also had a few shakes. I guess the local faultline is just letting us know not to forget it… They still give me flashbacks to February 22 2011… So I’m feeling a bit frazzled at the moment.
The Holy Pigeon often looked down from the cathedral observing all the pious believers below as they walked in and out of the building. Then he would launch into the air to bestow his own blessings on the believers. He usually aimed for the head, but sometimes it landed on their shoulders, or very occasionally, missed them entirely. The people didn’t seem terribly happy when they were chosen, but they failed to understand that it was a great honour for them to be marked this way.
On this day the pigeon looked down at the crowd again wondering which follower they would bless today…
Ginny stood on the river bank and watched the water running swiftly past. Breathing in the cool air she listened to the sounds of the river and the birds singing in the trees above. She was alone and feeling like her insides had been all mushed up. Today she had broken up with her partner, and now she felt sad, confused, and in a lot of pain.
She knew she would get over it, even though it didn’t seem like it at this time. Right now she needed to be alone and work though the hurt. Ginny dropped the feather she found into the river and watched it float away from her. The feather would move on to places she had never seen, and so would she.
It was down the steps and then into the shed, and then down some more steps. Even as a child Stacey had known about this. It was her “secret” place she would run off to be alone when she stayed with her grandparents. She never thought she would have to come back here again, but when the sirens had suddenly sounded she grabbed what she could and fled the city in terror. Once in the country she made for her grandparents farm knowing the one place where she might be safe.
In reality the place wasn’t a secret. All of her family knew about it. As Stacey quickly went down the steps, she wondered how many other family members had got away in time and ended up here too. Was she going to face the long dark on her own or would there be others? She slowly opened the door…
Today Cindy was going to the clinic. After having daily injections of hormones, it was now time for her eggs to be harvested by the doctor so they could be fertilised. She hated medical procedures and felt nervous about going there. Jess was meant to be with her today, but there was an emergency at her parent’s farm she had to help them with, which meant Cindy was now going into the city by herself. Which made it worse…
“The next step is to fertilise the eggs. When you come back next week we’ll transfer a healthy embryo to your uterus.” the Doctor told her after she had collected Cindy’s eggs with a fine needle.
Once Cindy got home, she saw there were flowers on the doorstep. The card read: “Hey babe, sorry I couldn’t be with you today. I hope it went well. I’ll be home soon. Love Jess.”
Is anyone else having problems with the Block Editor? They seem to have changed it again. This is my eighth attempt to write this post. The preformated block I’ve been using lately for my poetry seems to have been changed and doesn’t seem to work the same as it did. I’m getting sick of this…
There were several paths to grandma’s house, but only one went through the forest. She had been told never go that way. It wasn’t safe, her mother had said, but being told that only made her more curious. What could be there that was dangerous?
It was on that particular day when her mother had done some baking and she had loaded up her basket with baked goods for her grandma, that she found herself walking down that forest path. Being curious, foolhardy, and headstrong could be a heady combination, after all.
She found it was a decent path and the trees and bushes helped provide shelter from the sun. After she had gone some way, she heard laughter and voices talking. She crept silently forwards and saw a small cottage off the path. It was there she spied her mother in the arms of a man she didn’t know.