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Settlers of Disaster


Chro

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The woman trudged up the snowy incline, a settler of disaster on her way home. The canvas satchel thudded against her back, though numb as she was with cold, it did not bother her.

An owl cried out amongst the snowflakes. She stopped and turned her back to the wind, glaring towards the chilled breeze. The owl called again. She turned in a circle slowly, searching for the source of the hooting sound.

 

No sign. She began to walk again. Up the incline, then down again, meandering purposefully through the snow. The colony was barely visible, obscured as it was by the white sheet that Nature had laid; merely a few small huts clinging to the white plain.

 

This colony was aptly named Disaster; monikers like Safety and Fortitude only seemed to encourage strife. This was the way things were, as they knew it.

 

They had come here many months ago, looking for fertile land after their last several plots had run dry and frozen. But Nature had forsaken them, as they now knew, for each land to which they ventured soon became crushed by drought, seared by fires of the forest, or cocooned in winter’s harshness. The people of Disaster were hardy farmers, tough, and they knew how to survive this pain, for a time. Sooner or later they knew that something had to change; Disaster would hold no more, and a new settlement would be needed. They would move on, they would adapt.

 

- - -

 

The woman trudged up the grassy incline, a settler of disaster moving on. The canvas satchel thudded against her back, though joyous as she was with hope, it did not bother her.

A bluebird cried out amongst the raindrops. She stopped and smiled.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Slightly less "meh" than some of my other entries- I actually like this one, although it was cut a bit short by the time limit. I'm also posting this as one of two entries for this week's Fortnightly Flash Fiction Contest.

save not only their lives


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but their spirits

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It definately ended too soon for my taste. I wanted to see where this was going.

 

I enjoyed the images you conjured up for me here, though. For some reason I was picturing it in anime style. Anyway, I do wish there could have more, but this is from one of the fifteen-minute write-offs, right? So it's not exactly your fault. It sounds like the beginning to an interesting story, though.

After five long years. . . The Master of Fire is back!

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  • 4 months later...

Nuile reporting with a review, courtesy of the SSCC.

 

 

I remember judging "Settlement." This story stood out to me; and the very reason for that is that it didn't stand out at all. It was short and simple and it had no real distinction. And yet it was still a complete story in spite of that, eliciting my favor. It was flawlessly incorporeal.It reminds me of your Endgame. That was similarly insubstantial. But I think this is a better story because it does not have the same vagueness and ambiguity. This does have a little more substance--if only a little. It also has more backstory and less active story, though I can't call it any the worse for that. Sure, you might have described the character's surroundings or emotions more, or you might have given her internal dialogue; but this would all be mere superfluity. I guess what this story really needs, it has.The first title drop, I will say, was too soon, making it a redundancy already. The second drop was in the perfect place, but the effect it might have had was ruined because this was now the third time I read the title in under 300 words. Understandably, this was part of your effort to duplicate the beginning in the end, which you did admirably; however, when your short story is only 300 words long, the effect is weakened.Not, perhaps, an altogether memorable story. Its real qualities are subliminal, producing a dreamlike effect. It's just a quiet whisper, leaving only the indistinct impression: "Walk on." That's what this story means. It's not bad; it's not substantial. It's unusual, and perhaps not very emphatic, but somehow almost hypnotic. I'm noticing this seems to be your characteristic style, and I'm not at all averse to it. On the contrary, I hope you keep it up.

 

Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith :smilemirunu:

When I know I can't live without a pen and paper, when I know writing is as necessary to me as breathing . . .



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I know I am ready to start my voyage.



A Musing Author . . . Want to read my books?

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