Jump to content

  • Log in with Facebook Log in with Twitter Log In with Google      Sign In   
  • Create Account

Welcome to BZPower!

Hi there, while we hope you enjoy browsing through the site, there's a lot more you can do if you register. The process is easy and you can use your Google, Facebook, or Twitter account to make it even faster. Some perks of joining include:
  • Create your own topics, participate in existing discussions, and vote in polls
  • Show off your creations, stories, art, music, and movies and play member and staff-run games
  • Enter contests to win free LEGO sets and other prizes, and vote to decide the winners
  • Participate in raffles, including exclusive raffles for new members, and win free LEGO sets
  • Send private messages to other members
  • Organize with other members to attend or send your MOCs to LEGO fan events all over the world
  • Much, much more!
Enjoy your visit!

Photo

Grant-Sud's Short Story Shorts Collection

Short Stories

  • Please log in to reply
13 replies to this topic

#1 Offline Grant-Sud

Grant-Sud
  • Members
  • Defender of the Page

  • 490 posts
  •  

Posted May 04 2012 - 01:02 AM

So after joining 55555's Short Story Write Offs which later became Velox's Short Story Ambage, I decided to keep track of what I write and post them here. All stories will have a G to PG-13 rating for reference and a name. It will be constantly updated so feel free to leave any comments. Most of the short stories were thought of and written after being given a random "theme". Then I had fifteen minutes to write the story before I sent it in. It's not as easy as I thought it would be. Coming up with an idea that matches it well but not too obvious, and sometimes I want something completely different. And writing it is a completely different story. You have to rush through it in certain areas, and save yourself time to reread it and edit it... However most of these stories are unedited so bear with me.Fewer short stories that were written specifically for the Ambage Challenges, I'll also place here and eventually color in a distinction between the Write Offs and Challenges in the below contents. Table of Contents 1. Alone2. A Good Night3. Too Many Steps4. Don't Rush5. At Times, Words Can't Express Enough6. Peaceful Shores7. In Writing8. Witness (Ambage Challenge #2)9. Not Too Cold10. Climbing11. Weeping Stars (Ambage Contest Entry)12. "The Long and Winding Road"

Edited by Quote (Mr. Traveler), Oct 09 2012 - 11:35 AM.

  • 0

#2 Offline Grant-Sud

Grant-Sud
  • Members
  • Defender of the Page

  • 490 posts
  •  

Posted May 05 2012 - 12:43 AM

Written: April 27th

Theme: Lost Rated: PG

Alone

…Tap… In the darkness, he stands, searching for something he can’t find; waiting for it to find him. An exit. He can’t remember how he’s gotten here. But the dampness of the cool dark cave reminds him of how much he wants to escape. The sound of water that echoes with every drip, the smooth and cool earth below him and the little to no light, gives him no hope. Where is he? How did he come to be in this place? How did he come to be? Shivering, the child sits down and tucks his head toward his brought up knees, arms wrapping around both. He starts to cry. …Tap… Above him, is the smallest sparkle of light, but it doesn’t really sparkle. It’s just there. It’s just different. He looks upward, the white in a dark room enclosed space. It contradicts everything around him. He can’t remember where he from. Why? Who is he! How long has he been left alone for? Days, months, years? Shouldn’t he have died by now? No food, and he can’t recall drinking water for so long now. Yet his mouth isn’t dry. But quenches for someone or something. It’s a long while when he finally gains the nerve to move again. He starts to unravel from the cocoon he’s created with his body, moving his arms down, and slowly bringing up his legs. He has to try. What else is there but to try? To stay here? He hates it here. What’s worth living for, if he can never be found? He moves, toward the wall in the cave. Placing one foot to the wall, he attempts to pull himself up. He’s successful. Another shove, another push. ...Tap… How much time does he have left? Is there time at all? His foot slips on the slick stone, and he scrapes his knee, barely catching himself with his body. And the young boy feels hopeless again. He feels like giving up again. But … how much longer can I stay here, and be me? It’s a thought that’s his. Even in all this confusion, he’s still there. And if he exists, shouldn’t there exist more as well? He climbs again… and he reaches far up to ceiling of the cave. That light is right there. It’s right above him. So he raises his hand and touches it. _____ Notes: I have to admit this story was influenced by what few videos I saw of the video game, Limbo.

Edited by The Great Grant in the Sky, May 06 2012 - 01:37 PM.

  • 0

#3 Offline Grant-Sud

Grant-Sud
  • Members
  • Defender of the Page

  • 490 posts
  •  

Posted May 06 2012 - 01:38 PM

Written: May 3rd

Theme: Stars

Rating: PG

A Good Night

“So I’m in town for just a little while, but my dad and I figured while we’re here, heh, let’s have some fun you know?” “Uh huh,” I say, eating some wings at the bar. It’s close to midnight, and they stopped serving food about thirty minutes ago. I haven’t been able to completely enjoy them though. “See, it’s my dad’s birthday, so I figure we should do something special this week. We’ll be hitting all the top spots, but for right now, I’m trying to decide whether or not I want to give a call to this girl or not.” Trying to eat my wings is more what I mean. The gentleman beside me is a tourist in our town, and our town gets the tourists often. This is a local bar, and despite the cheep food, mediocre to decent service and heavy smell of cigarette smoke, this place has the best wings for miles. And I like them spicy. With a hint of alcohol, this guy’s breath is all over my face. He’s slightly drunk, but really he just won’t, stop, talking! He keeps going on and on about how his life is and was as a kid, because he thinks I am. I’m twenty one and he’s twenty four, and he’s giving me “advice”. Though he has a girlfriend back home, Boston, he’s going to hit on this one girl who’s given him her phone number. His father is up at the hotel, he’s told me, so for the rest of the night, he’s got nothing else to do. Being honest, I’m not the kind of guy to get into the personal affairs of others, but this guy is really bugging me. “So I say, ‘Yeah sure, why not take that job with my best friend?’, the problem is kid, you never expect your pal to end up stabbing you in the back, you know? It only lasted a month, and that’s when I learned to never work with friends. Can’t trust him, can you believe he did that? Guy is a moron. Remember that kid.” He only calls me “kid”, and he constantly uses the term, “You know?” The whole bar suddenly is in an uproar. The local hockey team has won the match. “Yeah!” he’s shouting and hooting with his baseball cap on and his cigarette being pounded into his ash tray. “What a shot man, what a shot!” “That was pretty sweet,” I comment, taking another bite of my spicy wings. “Yeah it was. Did I tell you I used to play hockey? I wasn’t good at it, but I was awight, you know?” So here goes again on a long story, that I try to take in, but find that’s so phony… He’s ALWAYS right, and never wrong and he always gets screwed in the end by family, or friends. I’ve gotten off work, and only meant to stay here an hour, which has now turned into two. I really, really want to get home. “So, what do you think huh?” I suddenly snap back to the present. “W-what do you mean?” I ask. “About the girl, kid, about the girl. I mean, you know as a guy, I got ideas and all. And what happens here, stays here, you know? So you think I should call her back, or you think she’s got some boyfriend or somethin?” “Look, to be honest man, I dunno what you should do. But you were just talking about how your friends screwed you over on that job, and that party and all the rest. Are you really gonna do that with your girlfriend yourself?” He got offended. But I got him to leave, after I get a couple of speeches about how I don’t get it, and that situation was different and such, he leaves moving chairs toward the other part of the bar, where some other late night drinkers are yelling and talking it all up. Sighing in relief, I go back to my wings and ask the bartender for a refill. It’s about ten minutes later, when the whole bar goes quiet. I glance around, trying to figure out what’s happened. Then the whole place goes crazy with laughter and shouts of praise and shouts of anger. The guy I was talking to is on the floor, with some guy over him, fist out and all. There’s a big red mark on my companion’s cheek. I stare for a long moment, and know he had it coming. When he wakes up, he’ll be seeing stars. ____ Notes: Dialogue seems kind of messed up, but I was actually going for that with these characters. I wanted them to speak with slang and their own catchphrases.

Edited by The Great Grant in the Sky, May 06 2012 - 01:38 PM.

  • 0

#4 Offline Grant-Sud

Grant-Sud
  • Members
  • Defender of the Page

  • 490 posts
  •  

Posted May 07 2012 - 11:30 PM

Written: May 4th

Theme: Respite

Rated: PG

Too Many Steps

Having been on the chase for so long, the small feline patters his footsteps into the nearest pipeline. His fur is wet and soggy, and he’s been running for too long without food. Very hungry, the small cat cautiously sticks its head out from the hole. The rain is pouring down on his head, but he checks and sees the tall scaffolding around him, the fence that encloses the construction site … and the stray dog that’s taking steps though the mud.The dog’s eyes look evil, and narrow. It’s just as hungry, the cat knows.Breathing in and out, he retreats back into the small steel pipe and curls up into a ball right near the center of its length.Slowly shutting its eyes, and tightly, it listens for more than the constant downpour of rain, drumming a repeated echo and rhythm as it hits the metal.Slosh…The cat reopens its eyes, hearing something unnatural in the rain, beyond his small sanctuary.Slosh…And right outside, he sees the feet of the Dog as it walks by, one leg soaking wet with muddy fur, the other bare with bite marks. For a moment the cat doesn’t breathe, just watches with its yellow eyes, still as stone.The canine moves on.And when all the cat can hear is the rain pattering, it slowly recloses its eyes and begins to breathe again. He thinks about how dry it is here, and safe. There aren’t too many places like that. So for the moment, he decides to rest. Maybe he’ll even sleep, for as long as he can.

Edited by The Great Grant in the Sky, May 07 2012 - 11:32 PM.

  • 0

#5 Offline Grant-Sud

Grant-Sud
  • Members
  • Defender of the Page

  • 490 posts
  •  

Posted May 10 2012 - 11:35 PM

Written: May 9th

Theme: Go

Rated: G

Don’t Rush

I have about fifteen minutes to conjure up some idea to present to the entire team. We’re working heavily on our project and I can’t begin to describe the trials and errors we’ve gone through to get it done. The designing has been endless and customization of what we’re planning I just can seem grasp half the time. Really, it’s everyone efforts that have made this a reality.And we’ve all worked incredibly hard on it.The problem though, is that we’re about to present it, and I’ve found a fatal flaw. There’s a bug, a glitch, and knot in our rope. I can see it, crystal clear as though it’s been waving a sign at me for hours and I’ve finally decided to look at it. Was it the excitement? Was it because we were so nervous or naïve to believe this could work out?I’m looking at this schematic - if that’s what you want to call it, I refer to it differently - up and down, left and right, sideways and all.This won’t work, my thoughts scream again. Why couldn’t we have foreseen this?My companions are right in the next room, they’ll be coming with our superior soon and they’ll present him this wonderfully looking plan that contains this unseen and small yet unmistakable flaw. I had decided to look over it, once more, to feel filled with the achievement of pride from what we have built here.But now I feel disillusionment.Raising a hand to my hair and pulling it back in frustration, only seven minutes left… or is it even that? I probably have less.I could add in this feature here… carry that over. But no, that would ruin the entire structure! Agh! Why was this so hard? We should have seen this, should have looked this over more than we did. What are we supposed to do, what should I tell them?Taking a deep breath, and turn away from our creation and just stop looking at it.I can’t undo this, and my time is nearly up. I hadn’t had enough of an opportunity to get my thinking straight. I have no more ideas, and when they come in and see my sad pitiful state, I wonder what they’ll see in me.I guess I’ll know by what I see in them. After all, they worked so hard, why couldn’t they have seen that all you needed to repair the problem was…I feel like the lights in my mind turn on. The solution…I laugh at how simple it is. The stress having left me, I turn and rethink a few things, studying it once more. Chuckling, I add in another variable to this formula and it all becomes clear.Sighing in relief, I realize I’ve made it right on the mark. Time almost got away from me, but the adjustment has been made, and my work is now done. I can hear the door opening, and I turn with the cup of joe in my hand.No sweat.

  • 0

#6 Offline Grant-Sud

Grant-Sud
  • Members
  • Defender of the Page

  • 490 posts
  •  

Posted May 13 2012 - 10:58 PM

Written: May 11thTheme: InscriptionRated: G

At Times, Words Can’t Express Enough

To my dearest companion: Jen.It’s been too long since we’ve last seen one another, and I fear the separation we’ve experienced has not only caused us to drift apart, but to lose sight of one another completely. I can’t recall what the shade of your eye color reminds me of, and the remembrance of the way your hair flowed whenever a gust of air caught it only leaves me with empty feelings. Has it truly been over five years now? Time has escaped both of us it seems.Enough of my sentimental emotions however, for I write this letter in great hopes that you will receive it with joy. I am doing well, and the new accommodations of my newest living quarters as described in my last letter, have greatly improved. I recall your words on how the way I described it previously and in two words you summed up my new room as, “dreadfully lacking”. Hopefully I haven’t instilled in you too great a fear, or I seemed too negative as the room has grown to my liking.And you, I hope you are doing well. It pains me to think of what you wrote of your gracious daughter, fallen ill at the worst of times. I pray to our Father above that she recovers swiftly. She’s always been spirited and her resolve to get well, I sure will be the most powerful medicine.My friend, I hope to see you soon. Though we live so far apart now, I feel like our friendship is worth saving and these small links that connect us together are our only ones. Do know, that I wait for your next one, longing to know how you are, and where you want to go with your life next. I will always ask for your opinion about mine. There is so much to do and so little time, but please do spend just a moment of it to respond.With as much love as I can pour onto a paper, your childhood friend:Lee.

Edited by The Great Grant in the Sky, May 24 2012 - 09:03 PM.

  • 0

#7 Offline Grant-Sud

Grant-Sud
  • Members
  • Defender of the Page

  • 490 posts
  •  

Posted May 24 2012 - 09:06 PM

Written: May 19thTheme: ShoreRated: G

Peaceful Shores

As far as he could see on this dark night, Dominic watched the coastline of the beach. He took it in, seeing its grandeur for the first time and just … stared. A minute went by, and the gusts of wind forced against his face, blowing and messing up his hair. A constant pull and push of the waves, reforming the sand of its imperfections over and over, glistened and erupted with foam as it rode into the shore.Dominic looked upward, his eyes squinting as a new blast of wind hit him. It was partly cloudy with a decently lit moon. He could see the beach stretch out for miles, but he could see no end.Taking in a deep breath of air, filling his lungs with that air, mixed in with a hint of salt and mist, he slowly exhaled with his lips pressed and formed together as though he was whistling.He started to walk, pressing his light jacket closer to him.It was the middle of spring, and he was visiting this part of the coast, never having seen its … no words could really describe it but he would say, unspeakable brilliance, at night. It was slightly chilly, the summer not having neared the spring yet, but his chest felt warm and he smiled.The man couldn’t … what could…. To be able to walk out on the far reaches of this beach, the sand pressing against his shoes as he took each step. He had time to think. Out here? He could just, forget. Just for an hour as he took his walk. This shore was where he could let go of his anxiety of the world, and reflect on what made him, well who he was.He felt guilt suddenly, for every person who couldn’t experience this stroll on the shore.But he could, and he swore, this wouldn’t be the last timehe did this.Smiling, Dominic, who kept his hands in his pockets to keep them from getting cold, watched out on to the ocean, having gotten his fill. He watched the water again, and felt like he was seeing something no other place in the universe had. The ocean was unique, something powerful, protective and majestic.Maybe next time, when he did come out tomorrow night too, he’d change his pace and sit down on the sand. Yeah, and he’d bring someone out here with him, his brother or his friend … and share what he was seeing.

  • 0

#8 Offline Grant-Sud

Grant-Sud
  • Members
  • Defender of the Page

  • 490 posts
  •  

Posted Jun 30 2012 - 01:49 AM

Written: June 30th

Theme: Alone

Rated: G

In Writing

“My Grandfather gave me- say again?” the woman stumbled.“That’s right,” the older man in a dress shirt and jacket replied, scribbling something down on the large file. “Your grandfather left behind a large number of books after he died. He was a collector or sorts, and his will stated he wanted to leave all of his books with you. He didn’t have much, and his wife and your father and mother are handling the finances. But the books, he stated as said here, was to go to his living grandchildren.”She blinked, dumbfounded.“That leaves you alone.”Recomposing herself and sitting upright once again, she nodded. The young woman was in her early twenties and living on her own in a small one bedroom apartment. Where she was going to keep these books… and how many were there?She wasn’t especially close to her grandfather, though she did love him, as one. He talked about himself often and often talked about her when they visited… but really, what did she truly know about him? She didn’t know who his parents were. What he was like when he was younger. She didn’t even know his exact age when he passed.So why leave her, books? Was it something he was interested in? Was he secretly a writer in his younger days?Sighing, she couldn’t find it in her heart to simply throw them away, or donate them to anyone else, despite the fact that she’d never read any of it. Instead, she just asked for where she had to sign on the dotted line.***The three boxes that were brought to her house were filled with older books. She didn’t see anything she recognized and only as she sorted through them did she find some familiar in name. All the books were a little moldy and browner in the pages, but they were all in relatively good shape, she noted.Finding a spot for them all in her place wouldn’t be easy either, but eventually she located a shelf that wasn’t being used for much anyway, and started taking things off and rearranging things. Until she could find a good home for these books, she’d leave them here.Having the space on her shelves that she’d picked up months ago from Walmart or maybe Targets, she slowly placed one book after the other on the shelves. They stacked up together like a wall, each one fitting like a glove.But it wasn’t until the last book, that she realized that it wouldn’t fit properly. All the shelves had been taken up with books, except for the top one. And this last book…Reaching up high, she placed the book on the top shelf, where it stood against the side, all by itself.Taking a few steps back, she looked at her work, finding all the books arranged properly quite satisfying. Maybe even tonight, she’d read some of her papa’s books. Find out what he thought was so wonderful about them, that he’d leave them for his only granddaughter.With a smile on her face, her eyes slowly reached the top of that book shelf, where that lone book stood.Her smile dimmed, and her eyes lowered a little. A new feeling of lamentation overcame her, as she resolved to move the book to her nightstand.

  • 0

#9 Offline Grant-Sud

Grant-Sud
  • Members
  • Defender of the Page

  • 490 posts
  •  

Posted Aug 05 2012 - 02:24 AM

Written: August 5thChallenge #2: Vocabulary DefinitionRated: PG-13

Witness

Her foot slipped and skid against the concrete as she shifted back against the wall, grinding up dirt and mud against the soles. She sat quietly next to the dumpster, placing her hands over her mouth to stop any instinctive sounds she’d let out. She breathed in through her nose, in and out, over and over again trying to keep calm as she rocked in place.Her eyes were closed shut, tightly, trying to collapse the vision that she had just seen.The rain poured down around her, the clothing she wore was soaked and her pants were dirt ridden. Rain fell on this gray night, the dark clouds illuminated by the city’s lights. Lampposts lit the street beyond her, but the alley she was situated in, was covered with shadow.Slowly dropping her hands to reside limp on the ground, the smell of the garbage beside her was finally acknowledged by her senses. But she ignored it. It didn’t mean anything to her. She just tried to breathe. She needed air, time, and silence, regardless of how stale and musky the oxygen seemed to be.After the longest minute of her life, she slowly, oh so slowly, moved her head. She moved her eyes around the corner of the brick building, slowly sliding her sight of the street into view which was hindered by her current position in the alley.With her back pressed to the wall, to make herself as invisible as possible, she took in what was before her.The man was standing above another. The one on the ground was on his back, rain pouring down on his clothes and face, as though he was in tears. His chest was a mixture of blood and mud and water. He was as dead as stone, and his expression was hidden from the girl’s sight.And the well dressed, fully alive man, the one drowning his lungs in smoke from his cigarette, held the gun at arm’s length.Her eyes widened, and her breathing shook again. She gasped, but she was sure the rain and thunder covered over whatever small whimper had escaped her mouth. The girl’s hand had reflexively grasped her thigh and she started to squeeze, stopping only when she felt the pain that had reached its way through blue jeans. That pain reminded her that everything was real. The gunshot she had heard wasn’t thunder. The flash that emitted after the trigger was pulled wasn’t lighting.The man retrieved the cigarette from his mouth, pausing to gently exhaling all the smoke from his lungs, before he flicked it on to the corpse. In his large trench coat, he turned and his eyes scanned toward the alley way's direction.She immediately pulled back and held her breath.Rain pelted the buildings’ walls and concrete path, against the dumpster like drums, and she felt like a prisoner by it. Unable to muster the courage to move, the girl heard every splash, every foot fall as the man drew closer.It seemed like any moment he’d shoot her next. And she would swear she felt the bullet strike her, the trigger sound being clicked. She flinched at the image.But he moved on. He was unaware of her. His silhouette was dark and she could make out nothing about his facial features. With smooth steps he left the street, leaving behind the girl.Unknowingly, he had left behind his witness too.And that witness, would be the first part of a series of clues that would lead to his downfall and arrest for first degree murder. Her life would be forever changed by the event, and though she brought a criminal to chains, to this day she would never choose to relive those moments again. No one could fully know what it meant to stay silent and alone, and leave her place to face reality. To keep watch on that cold body from a distance, stare at that hidden face for the longest time and come to a conclusion: she did have the option to walk away. She didn't really know anything about it, and she didn't have to get involved.The girl hesitated.She couldn’t remember what raced through her mind after that, if anything had. She only knew she was scared. Fear kept her numb.Still… there were other emotions that kept her feeling intensely.It took a little time, but she eventually slumped herself out onto the street to get a second look.

Edited by Quote (Mr. Traveler), Oct 07 2012 - 10:29 AM.

  • 0

#10 Offline Grant-Sud

Grant-Sud
  • Members
  • Defender of the Page

  • 490 posts
  •  

Posted Aug 06 2012 - 01:52 AM

Written: August 6thTheme: IceRated: G

Not Too Cold

"So, strawberry huh?""Double scoop please!" I heard Marie tell the bored ice cream worker behind the stand. This Ice Cream girl has curly blond hair, is an older teenager and wears way too much eye makeup. She's kinda good looking, but in that self important way. She has one hand near her pocket, and I swear I can see the glow of her cell phone."Right, double scoop of strawberry, and I'll have ... pistachio? Yeah, pistachio please," I say, reaching into my own pockets to scrap together the few dollars I have."Double scoop also?" the teen asks."Yeah, that'll be fine."Marie looks over at me and smiles and grabs my shoulder and then shakes it intensely, all in like, two seconds.I'm kind of looking away from her and feel a little nervous, since we've only been dating for two weeks. Or, wait has it been three already?Our relationship is starting to get serious."It's gonna be ten dollars and ... sixty six cents." The girl is squinting at the cash register, like the numbers are some foreign language.I blink though when I hear the cost.Looking down at the dollars I've assembled into my hand, I do a quick count and find I'm about a dollar short. Sighing, I place hand up to the back of my neck and mumble to my girlfriend, asking if she has any money. The boy is always supposed to have enough money for the date, just in case, right? I don't know if I'm doing this right.Marie though is already shifting through her purse, moving past her cell, iPod, makeup and whatever else girls carry around in their bags to pull out a crisp five dollar bill, like new. She hands the fin to the cashier, and receives the change.We get our ice cream in the next few minutes, and somehow I feel like I've been ripped off, because these scoops are less than a pathetic snow ball in size. We move into the booth next to the window, where traffic is screaming past on the road and people walk toward their next destination to fill their unfulfilled day."Here," Marie says with a mouth full, having taken a bite - not a lick, a bite- out of her ice cream. "Here's what I owe you."I blink as I stare at the change."What?""Yeah, the change, you paid for almost all of it." She looks slightly disappointed as she says that, but there's appreciation in her eyes too I think. I guess I seem important. The boyfriend who bought her the double scoop of strawberry ice cream which I know is her favorite."Thanks," I reply."You feel okay? You seem a little distracted," she says to me, watching me intently."Yeah, I'm okay. I'm just wondering..." But I stop suddenly, realizing that despite the annoying little traits I keep finding, from the loud cars, to the pieces of gum under our table and that annoying girl who stands there all day and doesn't care while right behind all that ice cream, don't matter too much. Because I'm, with a good friend, who's just happy if I enjoy my desert."I mean, I'm thinking, that we should do this again next week," I tell her. And despite being a little chilly right now on the inside, my attitude glows for the rest of the day.

  • 0

#11 Offline Grant-Sud

Grant-Sud
  • Members
  • Defender of the Page

  • 490 posts
  •  

Posted Sep 30 2012 - 10:21 PM

Written: Sep 10thTheme: StoneRated: PG

Climbing

He slipped.Under his feet, the stone had been slick with moss. The balance of the man had been steady as he climbed with assured steps up the large boulder. It had taken quite a few hours to make his way through the path of jutted rocks. Solid stones, massive in size all around him, each gleamed with a light outer layer of moisture. As he had taken his time in admiration of his atmosphere, the constant crashing of the waves against this incredibly large and enclosed rock formation, the way his bare feet felt in pools of water and sand, the crystal blue sky…It was too much for him. This was an amazing wonder, and the island he had travelled to by boat was just too great, so much greater than what he had seen in the pictures.So it had never occurred to him, that here, in this beautiful, healthy and untouched place, that he might meet his demise. Because while the sun had glared into his eyes as he climbed, this one large boulder that stood above the rest had been able to shield him from it. And if he could reach the top, he’d see the entire island, the water, jungle, cliffsides…everything. And each small rock seemed perfect for moving on, and up, all surrounding the much larger one, like a large slope to heaven.It was perfect.Pushing himself between two of rocks and catching his body in the notch, he pushed his back against one and moved his feet to the other. His legs pressed and he pushed himself upward to grasp the next rock which was high above.He had it… just a little more…His fingers felt around the edge of the next rock, and he pushed himself a little higher, both hands…He slipped.His feet buckled from under him and with a sway he felt the weight of his entire body on his arms. He blinked in disbelief as he could only stare upward, the strength leaving his arms like water dripping through is fingers.His first hand unbuckled, the muscles in his fingers baring too much strain. His body twisted around at the unbalance and despite all that he had seen on this day, he had no way out of this situation. The drop below was so far… Could he make it? He didn’t have a choice.He could only let go.****Eh, didn't really like this one. =/

  • 0

#12 Offline Grant-Sud

Grant-Sud
  • Members
  • Defender of the Page

  • 490 posts
  •  

Posted Oct 05 2012 - 10:11 AM

Written: Oct 5thTheme: The Red Star (Ambage Flash Fiction Contest Theme #1)Rated: PG

Weeping Stars

Special.It was the first thing that came to her mind when he started to cough again. She stared down at his body, spread out on the bed half covered in sheets, the other half exposed to fresh air. He was constantly either with a fever or shivering with the chills.A face, puffed up under the eyes, red at the cheeks. Lines under the eyes brought up from all the late nights, stricken with tiredness. But that was her face, not his.She moved the hair from her eyes and placed a cool towel on the young Toa’s head. He was breathing easily, but it was shallow. He didn’t get a coughing fit all the time, but each time he did it only reminded her of how much time he had left. He was a wielder of stone, so he was meant to be stronger than this.At least that’s what he believed.They were both Toa. She was one of Psionics, and he was one of Stone. Living as two of the guardians in their village wasn’t always easy. Matoran, people similar to them in every way except for their special abilities, constantly asked for requests and help. They were so different when they both discovered their power over the elements a few years back. They were almost total opposites in everything, mind and strength, humble and proud, even their skin color, white and dark brown.But… there had been an attraction. And years later, now married and surprisingly happy, they didn’t seem so different any more.They just seemed like one person.And she was about to lose her other half.“Are you okay?”She glanced his way and smiled, standing above him next to the bed right beside the nightstand. He wasn’t even looking at her, just staring up into the night sky by the window. She had just gotten back from a dispute going on in the village. Usually she would have taken her time. Today, she simply ended the silly brawl, forcefully.Today was not the day for pointless distractions.“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” she replied, frowning.“You know how I am,” he said, finally looking at her. He wasn’t downhearted, and he seemed comfortable.It had struck only weeks before. He started to feel dizzy on patrol, tired often. Then he started to vomit and get headaches.It was an ‘infection’, the local doctor had told them, a Makuta virus that could have been obtained from anything, from anywhere. Sometimes it took effect over physical bodies, or the mind, but it was usually something that could be cured.But this one was different, he had told them. It was attacking one organ in the Toa of Stone’s body, the heart. And there was no known way to counteract it now.“Would you mind grabbing me something…”“Anything,” she said, quickly, quietly. There was no light in the room, because the glare made his headache worsen. Only the stars gave them a soft light.“…I really, really want a chocolate chip cookie. A large one.”She almost laughed aloud as tears sprang to her eyes.“Oh yeah? The ones you like, at the bakery, right?”***When she returned he looked worse.The local baker was well aware of her husband’s condition. The two had been friends for years since the Toa of Stone had stopped a fire at the establishment.With a saddened look, he had given her the cookie for free. A large one, just like he liked it.Sitting on the bed, she handed him the cookie, now unwrapped, and he started to break it apart at the edges, placing each piece in his mouth.“I’m going to miss this the most…” he broke off a piece and gave it to her. She ate it, not hungry. As she chewed she kept her eyes on him. “The little things, see, the daily events that don’t seem important. Those are my most cherished memories with you.”His eyes seemed a little blurry, his breathing weaker. He reached out with his fingers, slowly wrapping them around her nearest hand.She started to choke up, so she leaned in and pressed her forehead to his. She didn’t want to keep watching him.And then he started to whisper.“I had a dream, of us. In Paradise, on this planet that never seemed to end…” she started to open her eyes, not knowing if he was delirious or not. “Our friends were all there, even the ones we’ve lost. Your sister was there. I was there… We’re all happy, we’re safe.”“K-kinda like in Artahka right?” she said, smiling and whispering back. But she didn’t believe a word of what he said.“No. This place was real. I saw it.” He stared up at her, and she forced herself to believe what he said, even though she didn’t understand.“I’ll be back. At some time and place. And I promise I’ll see you again…”***She walked out of the house, feeling the crisp winter air biting at her skin. It was somewhat refreshing though. Cool and real. She was lost right now, her mind numb. Her husband had passed away only moments ago.She glanced around, Matoran were watching her, their eyes all asking the same question. They all knew the answer.Reflexively she brought a hand to her mouth, taking a big bite out of the half eaten cookie. It tasted wonderful and still a little warm.Glancing upward as she chewed, she didn’t want to feel any emotions, for a few more minutes. Being a Toa of Psionics had advantages.Then, she noticed something.What he had been looking at from his window, far in the sky, high in the heavens. It glowed brightly, among millions of its brothers, but it was unique. The red star.It felt like it was staring down at her pitiful form, asking her to notice him; glowing with a promise.____The entire story including the title all come to a total of 998 words. This is the first Bionicle story I've written where they are portrayed as humans.

Edited by Quote (Mr. Traveler), Oct 07 2012 - 10:28 AM.

  • 0

#13 Offline Grant-Sud

Grant-Sud
  • Members
  • Defender of the Page

  • 490 posts
  •  

Posted Oct 07 2012 - 10:57 PM

Written: Oct 10thTheme: SilenceRating: G

"The Long and Winding Road"

Taking his steps on the boardwalk in the middle of the night, late in the middle of the night, was when he enjoyed it the most. There were too many tourists and distractions, too many people running down out at the beach playing volleyball or surfing or whatever.No, it was at night when it was the best.Silence.The moon was out, well lit and not too many clouds in the sky. He took his walks every night around this time, and he caught himself up in the same old routines. The lamps were few and far in between, all glaring in their shades of deep orange. The constant pounding of the waves not too far off in the distance felt soothing.Most of the shops around here, that were open during the day, little diners, gift shops and shacks, were closed with the shutters down.It felt lonely, but it gave him time to reflect on things. Take in everything that’s been going on in the day, and spread them out in his mind and flip them over, chew on them. It’s been a long day with college and work and his girlfriend, who it seemed like he never got to see as much as he wished to.And it was only going to get busier as he got older. So that was why these walks were necessary. Just to take a moment to breathe and stretch, and let everything just stop.His jacket was left open so his body could take in that refreshingly cool breeze from the beach. The scent of the ocean overcame him, as it did every night. He bent back just a little and looked up to the clouds, seemingly moving at such a high speed amongst the stars. It took his breath away.“Amazing…” he exhaled.Just a few more minutes of this, to walk all his trouble away and maybe, for once, just walk away from it all for good. That would have been great, he reminded himself. If life gave you that option, to keep walking until you reached someplace new and outstanding, or perhaps just something a little different.Taking his sight back to what was in front of him he hesitated just for a minute.He listened.And something wasn’t… right. He couldn’t hear something. The waves.Confused, he wondered how far he had journeyed to… the ocean was just to his right. He turned around and glanced down the boardwalk, which-The passage was too dark to see at this time of night, but the row of streetlamps seemed to go on forever. Had he come this way before? Was this a larger area…No that didn’t make any sense, he’d walked this whole boardwalk before. He glanced to his right and found all the stores had the same closed sign on them. Red outlines with big black letters spelling, CLOSED. He wasn’t worried, though something in his mind told him he should have been. He glanced upward, and the clouds were frozen. The air was held still.No pounding of the waves.He moved to locate the nearest exit to the beach, but the wooden railing kept going on and on. He didn’t have a desire to just jump over it, so he kept walking.But I can’t just keep walking forever… Eventually something must change, right? As nice as this is, time has to move forward and you have return to what you took a break from. He found an exit to his right, and started to walk toward it, his feet hitting the sandy path that led to the beach. It did hit him as a surprise, but he couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t stunned or scared out of his mind.The waves in the ocean had stopped moving. Some were about to crash onto the beach, but simply didn’t.He glanced behind him, seeing the sand he had kicked up slightly, still in the air, in freefall.Yeah, I don’t want to do this forever. I do want to show that I can make it. That work is tough, but endurable and school is pressuring but understandable. That I don’t get to see my girl too much, but I love her. I want to go back to that. Otherwise I’ll miss it all if I leave.The sounds hit him all at once as the waves started to rush forward, the air kissed his face and his breathing became noticeable again. His heart pounding, as though for a minute it hadn’t been, he looked around in wonder. Yeah he knew where he was… how did he miss that before and wasn’t…He couldn’t remember what… he had…Shaking the thoughts of a dream away, he resolved that next time, he’d make sure he brought someone he cared about with him, in case he got lost again.

  • 0

#14 Offline Cederak

Cederak
  • Outstanding BZPower Citizens
  • Axiomatic

  • 4,145 posts
  •   Outstanding BZPower Citizen

Posted Oct 31 2012 - 10:18 PM

Hey, Quote (Mr. Traveler), not only do you have one of the most interesting BZP names I've encountered in a while, but you're also the one thing standing between me and an Ambage Review Pass. So let's keep the cycle going and start this critique. :)In Writing was a quiet story in a lot of ways and I liked it that way. The conflict wasn't a huge, destructive force, but a slow, peaceful sort of affair. As is the case with a lot of flash fiction, not all of the questions get answered, but they aren't all necessarily important. Flash fiction is one of those sub-genres not meant for people that want all the answers, I think, because you're never going to be satisfied that way.The real plot came from the main character receiving her books, not having much of an idea as to why she was given them. I enjoyed the little things about this piece though. Details about taking the books home, getting them shelved, and then finally, ultimately, we come to a book that needs a place. On the subject of grandfather's that have passed, mine always said that "everything has a place, and everything must be in a place." Suffice to say, he had a system to his organizing. :lol: Anyway, getting back to your story, the convenience of the situation is absolutely perfect. It doesn't feel forced, it doesn't feel like some sort of deus-ex-machine, this is coincidence at its finest. The assumption I drew from this point is that eventually, the protagonist will read through her entire collection. It's a nice note to end on, being a writer, and knowing someone will be staying productive by thumbing through all those pages. It actually took my mind off the question of "what happens when she reads them all and there's still a book that needs a location?" until really getting into this review.For such a brief story, you gave me the details I needed and you provided a story that didn't require this massive conflict to feel engaging. I'll have to read through some of your other flash fiction another time. Nice work.-Ced
  • 0




0 user(s) are browsing this forum

0 members, 0 guests, 0 anonymous users