Historical
Hidden in The Hay
The sun crested the hill behind the Big House, its rays bearing down on the farmyard. Della lifted her head and closed her eyes, breathing in the morning. A loud popping sound erupted from the sky, causing her to flinch and snap her eyes open. A massive iron bird shot across the blue sky, screeching as it passed by. Della scrambled to her feet, letting out a low of fear before shuffling quickly towards the Barn. The iron birds had become more frequent in the last few months, and they made Della uneasy. Heinrich and Liesel had certainly appeared more harried when they came to the Barn to look after Della and the pigs. Della could sense the tension in Liesel’s fingers as she pulled on Della’s udders, draining her milk into a pail. She had overheard Liesel’s hushed conversation with Heinrich about hiding the little girl, and Heinrich’s brow had furrowed in anxiety. Hiding the girl would bring danger to the farm, Della could tell.
By Mackenzie Dickeson5 years ago in Fiction
Sic Semper Sicarius
Sic Semper Sicarius - Thus Always to Assassins He knew he should be scared, but truth be told, he was not afraid of dying. After what he did he knew that he would be hunted down. “Dead or alive, they say,” he laughed. “I think they will act as if it’s Dead or Dead. What about you David? Are you ready to die in this barn? Is this old barn the kind of place you expected to spend the last hours of your life in?”
By Cleve Taylor 5 years ago in Fiction
Another Life
In another life, he knew this had to have been a barn. Resisting the urge to open his eyes, he took a deep breath and tried to imagine the old structure’s past. The smell of hay and manure was faint but he was absolutely convinced it was still there. Not that the others would have believed him, or cared. To his right, the stranger next to him coughed, abruptly. It sparked a chain reaction around the barn, echoes of coughs, smothered grunts and loud sighs. He turned his attention away from the men around him and focussed once again on the barn; his daily routine. Now old and decrepit, it still served its purpose; housing livestock and tools. As a city man, he’d never spent time in or around barns, and barely understood the life that accompanied them. It was a life that had been romanticised in literature and history; the glory of the pastures, the honest hard-working farm hands being the backbone of civilisation. Birdsong and nature, the soundtrack to an idyllic life. He longed for it now, but he could never escape his own reality. The man next to him continued to stir, an agitated shudder pulling him back to the present.
By Holly Jackson5 years ago in Fiction
the goddess in the barn
Normandy, France June 10th, 1944 My dearest John, Every battle I live through makes me more grateful that you are back home and safe. It's horrible here—the fighting. I dream about it a lot. I can't stop thinking about the men I've killed, or how one of my men got killed, or how a grenade almost got me two days ago. But I shouldn't tell you all this; I don't want you worrying about me. It's been a year now, but I know I'm coming home soon. The men talk about it all the time—home. I miss it. Europe is beautiful, but we have to visit when there isn't a war going on. Ha-ha.
By victoire summers5 years ago in Fiction
The Devil and The Debutant
Prolog: They weren’t really understanding her. She hated being yelled at especially when she hadn’t meant to do anything wrong; especially since she had asked for help; especially since she had no idea how to fix it so that her mother would stop. She couldn’t articulate any of this and felt cowed by the senses her mother was stirring up. She felt muddled like maybe she was wrong, but deep down she knew this beratement was the truly wrong thing. She just couldn’t figure out how to say it, though, so the little girl screamed, “You’re stupid!!!! I hate you!!!!”
By E. J. Strange5 years ago in Fiction
The Devil and The Debutant
William John Cavendish-Scott-Bentinck, 5th Duke of Portland, or as his “friends” liked to call him Lord John, was in the midst of one of his fits. A flash, a crash, and a glint of fire had sent him far from where he stood. It was not real and yet he was stuck; lost in a remembered world he must fight his way out of.
By E. J. Strange5 years ago in Fiction
Glory
“John, it’s me, Glory. Guess where I am? I came back to the farm to say goodbye to this old barn. Tomorrow a big-business chicken farming corporation will tear it down and turn this land into a factory farm with hundreds of chickens that will never see the light of day. Can you believe that?”
By Nancy Brisson5 years ago in Fiction
We'll Meet Again
There was only one rule when Juliette visited her grandparent’s farm growing up... “Don’t go near the old barn!” Juliette had grumbled and asked why on many occasions, but it was the one question she’d never received an answer to, her Grandpa Albert leaving the room and Grandma Edie humming instead and staring off into space.
By Elissa Dawson5 years ago in Fiction
JACK OF DIAMONDS
iii Magda was the first one to see him. She’d heard the sickening thud as he landed on the carpeted floor, and turned to see him trying to sit up before he fainted. Her scream echoed through the open foyer. She was at his side before she knew what she was doing—panic stricken—not knowing what to do, or how she should hold him. His face was ashen, his lips turning blue, and then she looked down the length of his body seeing the damage to his leg.
By ben woestenburg5 years ago in Fiction
