Liz Burton
Bio
writing for fun and just giving it a go
Stories (25)
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What If the Internet Died Tomorrow?
On a quiet Tuesday morning, the world blinked—and the internet was gone. No warning, no countdown, just silence. Phones became paperweights. Smart homes turned dumb. The stock market froze mid-tick. For a moment, it felt like the end of the world. But as the hours passed, something stranger happened: people looked up. They spoke. They gathered. And in the absence of the digital hum, a different kind of signal began to emerge—one made of voices, footsteps, and the rustle of paper maps.
By Liz Burton5 months ago in Fiction
Lem's growing pain
Sparking up his pipe Von sat at his window watching the early evening bustle in the streets below. He had been a solitary man his whole life, never delving into other’s business and certainly never with the intention of raising a child. At times he questioned why he had not dropped Lem off at the local orphanage, or found a woman to raise him. Von could have provided financial support, but he had not. He had made his choice the day he had returned home with him. There was something about this child.
By Liz Burton5 months ago in Fiction
No Ordinary Child
The sun shone down bouncing rays off the water in front of Von. He was sat on a rock at the entrance of a cave above a lake outside the city. He came here to meditate and to find quiet. Closing his eyes he felt the warmth hit his skin, the peace of this place allowed him to think clearly. Opening his eyes he watched the lake sparkle as the sun caused the water to sparkle and shine. His peace was quickly interrupted by a piercing scream, a small child stood with his trousers rolled up with the water lapping his feet, but where seconds ago he had been enjoying the cool water, he was suddenly stricken with fear and grief. His mother lay unmoving nearby, an arrow piercing her chest and her basket of fish lay cast aside. Von watched motionless as two men slowly approached, one bent to check the mother was dead whilst the other approached the small child drawing his string back slowly. Von stood up, grabbing his staff and let the anger that had built within him in the last few seconds flow from his heart to his fingertips, feeling the energy begin to burn in his fingers he smashed his staff to the ground fixing this man with an unwavering glare. The rock beneath his staff cracked and he directed the energy with his mind into the mans bow, which shattered in his grasp.
By Liz Burton5 months ago in Fiction
Strike Team Revised
Hector stood slightly apart from his team. Their nervous chatter and bursts of laughter grated on his focus. Some Strike teams entered the arena for glory or thrills—but not his. For them, this was survival. A brutal winter loomed, and the winnings from the Strike were their only hope of making it through.
By Liz Burton5 months ago in Fiction
