A cane echoed loudly beyond the library. Gilsi spun, slipping the book she clutched beneath a stack of papers on her desk. Bertin’s cane struck the heavy study door forcing it open plodding his way in. Taking a step back, Gilsi inclined her head. “Good morrow, Scribe Bertin.”
Friend of Ignorance
The glass beads were warm as Ryany pushed them aside entering the Ebony Bowl. Thick smoke wafted about, shoving against each other in a hazy maze. Ryany coughed at the mixture of the sweet and acrid stench.
Moon’s Slumber
The dusky blue tones of the sky told Cere Aebeorth time was running out. Leaning forward she rubbed Scratch’s neck as her leather armor creaked. The horse raised his head slightly flicked an ear back as if asking if they could stop, before lowering and swinging to the side as if searching for weeds growing among the rocks. They’d left the tree line behind an hour ago.
Fresh Produce
The pile of red stones teetered as I crouched near the gates. Looking for a stable stack was pointless. There wasn’t one in the place. That wouldn’t been simple and only one thing was simple here, pain was everywhere.
Assistance Required
Vernon drew a deep breath the air passing through his lungs in a frigid breeze. The squabbling gaggle of preteens didn’t pause their argument long enough to rub at the goosebumps he’d managed to induce. Instead they stood huddled about the device which through off a blue glow completely obliterating his ghostly one.
Not How It Works
“We need more explosives!” Gage rubbed his hands together, and I could only describe his expression as gleeful.
Death’s Embers
The floor groaned as Enryn’s thudded one end of the wooden lid on the ground. She rested the other against the oblong box overhanging both ends of the table. Looking down, Enryn brushed her hands against each other.
Hidden in Snow
Metal wailed grating over stone. Shifra clamped her fingers into stone as her foot slipped. Her knee groaned as she straightened on the narrow ledge. Ahead the path twisted along the mountain. Thin, but passable. She’d let excited override her protective programming.
Fire Flight
Red light reflected in the tall grass whipping her arms as she ran. Heat seared her lungs as smoke scraped her throat. About her rose staccato of panic feet accompanied by carts rumbling along the distant path. A river of bodies brought equal in fleeing death.
Time’s Choice
The 6th anniversary of my flash fiction blog is here! 6 years ago today I wrote my first flash fiction and created my blog. Last year I started celebrating the anniversary with a story of time. This year I decided that celebrating time passing with another chapter to the time story from last year was…