Fiction
Dominus
I was a gladiator when you found me. I was living in close quarters day after day, smelling the stink of others' unwashed bodies- fighting them for space. Each day we were sent out to struggle for our lives while the nobility watched. We glistened with the fear-sweat of adrenaline as the cheers rolled over us from on high. Our pain was their pleasure. But I don't think it was ever yours. You'd known too much of pain to take pleasure in anyone else’s.
By Raistlin Allen11 months ago in History
Between Worlds
Pedro had always felt that life held secrets beyond what the eyes could see. Growing up in a small town, where everyday life seemed to repeat itself without much excitement, he nurtured an inner restlessness—a longing to discover something that would make him feel truly alive.
By A.short stories11 months ago in History
The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea. Runner-Up in Love Letters Through Time Challenge.
Dear Billy It’s my favorite birthday card. Truly it is. I love it. You did such a good job drawing everyone. And I’m glad you didn’t forget Spitfire. She’d have been so cross! (She’s curled up in my lap, purring and watching me write.) I can’t wait to show your dad. He’ll be pleased as punch to see all those medals on his chest.
By Caroline Craven11 months ago in History
Letters . Runner-Up in Love Letters Through Time Challenge.
April 15, 1967 Dear Carly, I thought California was hot, but the air in Vietnam felt like it was on fire when I stepped off the plane. After twenty-three hours in the air, I don't think I ever wanted something to be over more in my life, and at the same time, I wanted to stay. I wanted to close the flight doors and ride that bird all the way back to you.
By The Invisible Writer11 months ago in History
Yours, Always. AI-Generated.
#WHY DISTANCE CAN NEVER FADE TRUE LOVE ! April 15th, 1942 England's London Thomas, my dearest, The days feel longer without you here. Since you left for the front, the city is different. The streets are quieter, the skies darker, and every time the sirens wail, I hold my breath and whisper a prayer — not just for our city, but for you. I keep your photograph by my bedside, the one we took by the river last summer. I often touch the corner of it, as though by doing so, I can feel your hand again. Do you remember that day? The sun was high, and you made me laugh so hard that I spilled my tea. Those moments feel so distant now, like another life. Mother is well, though she worries about you just as much as I do. She knits scarves for the soldiers, hoping one might reach you. I’ve taken up helping at the community shelter, handing out bread and tea to those who have lost their homes in the bombings. Even though it keeps me busy, my heart stays with you. Please write soon. Even the smallest word from you would mean the world to me. Yours, always, Elizabeth --- May 2nd, 1942 Somewhere in France My Sweet Elizabeth, Your letter was a light in this dark place. I read it over and over, imagining your voice with every word. It made me remember the river too — the way your hair danced in the breeze, the way you scolded me for making you laugh too much. If I close my eyes, I can almost feel that day again. Love, things are hard here. The nights are cold, and the days are loud with the sounds of war. We march through fields and sleep in trenches, and though I am surrounded by men, I have never felt more alone. But your letter — your words — they remind me why I fight. für Sie. For us. I carry the handkerchief you gave me in my coat pocket. It smells faintly of lavender still, though the scent fades a little more each day. It’s a small piece of home I refuse to let go of. Tell your mother I am grateful for her scarves — I hope one reaches me. Tell her I promise to come home to you both, no matter how long it takes. With every beat of my heart, Thomas --- October 18th, 1943 England's London Thomas, my dearest, The sky appears permanently gray as the days get shorter and colder. Another winter is coming, and I worry about you more with each passing day. Are you cozy? Do you consume enough food? I lie awake at night and wonder where you are, if you’re safe. I learned of a battle near the town from which you last wrote. I held my breath, waiting for the telegram boy to pass our door, praying he would not stop. He didn't, but I never forget the fear. I still walk to the river sometimes. It’s quieter now, fewer people, but I sit by the same bench where we once laughed and dreamed of the future. I talk to you there, whispering into the wind, hoping somehow you hear me. Write to me when you can. Even a single word will ease my heart. Forever yours, Elizabeth --- December 9th, 1943 Somewhere in Belgium My Beloved Elizabeth, I am alive. I am safe — for now. I know you must have worried when the news came of the battle, but I made it through. The loss of many of my friends that did not comes with a heavy burden. Your letter was a comfort. Knowing you still sit by our river, still speak to me there, makes me feel less far away. I wish I could be there with you, holding your hand, promising you that this war will end soon. But I can't lie: I have no idea when that time will come. We march on, through snow and mud, but I keep moving forward with the thought of you. I picture you in your coat by the river, waiting for me, and it gives me strength. My love, hold on. I will come back to you. Yours until my last breath, Thomas --- May 7th, 1945 England's London Thomas, my dearest, The conflict is over. People are singing, crying, and embracing strangers again on London's streets, but all I can do is wait by our window and watch the road in the hope that you will return to me. I have heard nothing from you in months. No letters, no word. I am trying not to fear the worst, but it is hard. Every soldier I see returning home makes my heart race — is this the moment I see you again? Please, if you are alive, write to me. Inform me of your upcoming return. I cannot bear the thought of this joy all around me if you are not here to share it. Forever waiting, Elizabeth --- May 20th, 1945 England's London My Dearest Elizabeth, I am coming home. I write this from a small hospital in France, where I have been recovering from an injury since March. I'm so sorry I couldn't get in touch with you sooner; I can only imagine how scared you must have been. However, I am alive and healing. And now, I am coming back to you. I think of the river, of our bench, and of you standing there with the wind in your hair. I will be there beside you again soon — not in a dream, but in life. Now that the war is over, we can finally begin our life together. Hold me in your heart a little longer, my love. I am almost home. Forever yours, Thomas.
By Samiha Bushra 11 months ago in History
A Love Letter from the Warfront
April 14, 1943 My Dearest Eleanor, As I sit in the dim glow of this flickering candle, the weight of the war presses heavily upon me. The barracks are silent, save for the distant echoes of battle, but my thoughts are far from this desolate place. They are with you—wrapped in the softness of your voice, the warmth of your touch, the laughter that once filled the meadows of our youth.
By mohamad yasir 11 months ago in History
Love Letters Through Time. AI-Generated.
My Dearest Eleanor, November 14, 1863 As I sit by the dim lantern light, the soft crackling of the fire my only companion, I find my thoughts drawn irresistibly to you. The battlefield may rage with chaos and despair, but my heart, dear Eleanor, knows only the calm serenity of your love. Each night, when silence falls over the camp and the scent of damp earth fills the air, I close my eyes and imagine the warmth of your embrace, the gentle melody of your laughter carrying me home, if only in spirit.
By Word Weaver11 months ago in History
A Letter from Berlin. Content Warning.
11 May, 1933 My love, my lovely, my German woman, I can barely sleep for my excitement of this past evening- overwhelmed as I am with the exhilaration of our festival, and brimming with pride that our efforts within the Student Union led to such a beautiful display of German spirit.
By Judah LoVato11 months ago in History
9 million year old shark ancestor fossil found in the desert
9 million year old shark ancestor fossil found in the desert. A recent discovery has left scientists and enthusiasts alike astonished a 9 million year old shark ancestor fossil was found buried beneath layers of scorching desert sand. This revelation challenges our understanding of prehistoric life and raises fascinating questions about how an ocean predator ended up in an arid landscape. While the idea of a shark fossil in the middle of a desert seems almost unbelievable it is a testament to the ever changing nature of our planet. To understand this phenomenon it is essential to look back millions of years when the Earth was vastly different from what we see today. Scientists explain that the very desert where the fossil was found was once submerged beneath a vast ocean. This prehistoric body of water teemed with marine life including sharks before geological and climatic shifts transformed it into the barren land we now see. The fossilized remains of this ancient shark serve as a reminder of a time when this region was part of a thriving underwater ecosystem. One of the key reasons behind such drastic transformations is the movement of tectonic plates. These massive sections of the Earth's crust are constantly shifting albeit at an imperceptibly slow pace. Over millions of years these movements can cause oceans to retreat and landmasses to rise reshaping entire continents. What was once a deep ocean floor eventually became exposed land subject to erosion and the relentless forces of nature.
By Adnan Rasheed11 months ago in History
My Dearest Amelia. Content Warning.
The days grow longer with each passing moment that I'm apart from you, My Love. The only moment of happiness I have during this war is the memory of your beautiful face... the touch of your soft lips against mine. This horrendous war leaves me struggling to feel anything but numb most days, because if I were to allow myself to feel... anything... I fear that I would go insane. We fight against our own brothers, uncles, even fathers... all because so many cannot see equality as a human right that all deserve. Empathy is killing me slowly the longer this war rages on... I feel that I will never be able to close my eyes without seeing... all the bodies of the fallen around me.
By Luna Verity11 months ago in History
Open on Your Eighteenth Birthday. Honorable Mention in Love Letters Through Time Challenge.
May 18, 1949 My dear sweet Althea Rose, I write this letter while I watch you sleep in the crib your father made you from across the bedroom. I can see your wee brow wrinkle and relax with some little dream you are dreaming. Your tiny lips pucker in response to some delicacy you’re experiencing while in some Sandman’s fantasy. Your teeny hands reach and clutch for some prize only Morpheus allows you to see.
By Mother Combs11 months ago in History
