The storm before the calm
Dig in
No-one speaks as they shuffle, lined up in a row.
All around them, thousands of frenzied voices cry,
they screech and they crow,
Baying for blood.
His skin crawls with their chants,
as if the very words could etch themselves on,
The sheer noise drowns out his heart,
as they stand at their appointed spot,
on trial for a crime they have not yet committed.
Beads of sweat cascade down bare shoulders of the condemned,
threatening to burn in the sun,
for they are only men.
The eight are trapped,
surrounded by walls they cannot surmount.
All heads are down, focused only on their feet,
and one of them murmurs fervently, his eyes closed.
Who could help them now?
They are alone, and must face it so.
Fall, and failure swallows them whole.
Mercifully, it would be quick,
and for that, he is grateful.
One's nerve fails him in the heat,
and the remaining seven crouch, defenseless.
The corded muscles of their arms stand poised,
but empty,
for what weapon would they hold?
A single hand raises, and points to the sky,
where the clouds have scurried away, refusing to watch.
Time stands alongside them as he counts,
awaiting the signal to move.
He cannot miss,
for there will be but one chance.
The hordes reluctantly cease their clammer,
as a hush sweeps around the still air.
This is the moment he needs,
where breath slows and eyes sharpen.
This is no time to fear what has been,
or may yet come.
He hears not the bated breath of others,
nor sees the prayerful hands that watch.
He cannot feel his hands as they lie,
nor smell, nor taste,
the fear beside.
This, is all he is now.
Finally,
blessedly,
the gun fires,
and all stillness is broken with a crack in the sky.
He recoils and springs in a flash,
left leg driving hard into the ground,
arms up and already pumping,
as he takes the first leap forward.
Sharp metal spikes into soft rubber,
but only an instant, and he is away.
Time nods as he leaps: light and free.
Sparks hit his heels, as he begins to fly.
About the Creator
Joe O’Connor
New Zealander
English teacher
Short stories and poems📚
Please be honest- I would love your constructive feedback, as it's the only way I'll get better. Would rather it was pointed out so I can improve!
Currently writing James The Wonderer
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Easy to read and follow
Well-structured & engaging content
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
Expert insights and opinions
Arguments were carefully researched and presented
Eye opening
Niche topic & fresh perspectives
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Masterful proofreading
Zero grammar & spelling mistakes
On-point and relevant
Writing reflected the title & theme
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More stories from Joe O’Connor and writers in Poets and other communities.
Where's the Glory?
In breaking news, rehabilitated Republican Senator Johnnie Johnson (Pronouns: HE, HIM, HIS) called a press conference from the Men’s room of the New Orleans Louis Armstrong International Airport, Concourse B, across from the Ignatius Reilly’s Lucky Dog stand. The Senator had just returned from a sexual reorientation rehabilitation program in Memphis, TN after being publically disgraced at a Buckee’s Truckstop restroom soliciting sex from an undercover cop three months ago. He is a founding member of the Reformed Christians for Christ, a conservative, pro-family and ex-gay advocacy group. In the spirit of being reborn, Senator Johnson invited reporters to marvel at his plans for a major remodeling of airport bathrooms.
By Cathy Schieffelin4 days ago in Humor
Comments (29)
Oh this was so cleverly done. Had us thinking one way, a gladiator … then with the crack of a gun…had me thinking a war…then like the starters gun…bam..we jump and are part of the race. ‘the gun fires, and all stillness is broken with a crack in the sky.’ This is so good
Boldly written!!! Congratulations on Top Story!!!❤️❤️💕
Wooohooooo congratulations on your Leaderboard placement! 🎉💖🎊🎉💖🎊
This is a wonderful piece and so worthy of Top Story recognition. I love the line "where the clouds have scurried away, refusing to watch". So much energy and emotion is packed herein.
Brilliant Top Story! I gullibly thought it was Gladiators! Loved: “ A single hand raises, and points to the sky, where the clouds have scurried away, refusing to watch. Time stands alongside them as he counts, awaiting the signal to move.” I loved running but was terrified of ‘breaking’ when the starter gun sounded. Vivid portrayal of the feeling.✅
Congrats on top story 👏👏👏
Whoa! I felt the fear, the inevitable creeping toward me: intense!
As I was reading, I felt my breathing stop, anxiously awaiting what would come next. I love the flow and build up. Keep it up!
Woaw You are incredible writer Congratulations on Top Story 🔥
Great poem, I like it 💗😊
Tense, vivid, and poetic. You captured the exact heartbeat before action — the silence that screams. Brilliantly done.
Back to say congratulations on your Top Story! 🎉💖🎊🎉💖🎊
Raw, reflective, and beautifully written. Sometimes the breaking is what brings the healing. Your words carry both pain and power. 🌫️🕊️
Damn, this made me hold my breath, great job!. Congratulations on your Top Story!
Well done Joe - great top story!
I love how you have allowed your reader to use their own imaginations here. My imagery was that while they were being held captive, it only took one person to break their binds and bring about freedom.
Lamar's comment sums it up perfectly. Excellent work, Joe.
Edge of the seat here as these words flowed off the page. I of course thought firing squad, but you slowly revealed more and more until the word and visuals synchronized with what was really taking place. Stellar work, Joe!
The anticipation! Great poem, indeed.
Wow--such amazing tension build-up and imagery! Those last lines were so powerful and perfect!
Joe O’Connor, how you weaponize silence between words! The tension thrums in your deliberate phrasing—I read with pulse-heightened focus.
Visceral anticipation and at last, freedom from fear.
This was fantastic - love the image of the clouds scurrying away and refusing to watch.
My word! The tension building in this is phenomenal. You definitely had me primed for some sort of Colosseum spectacle with the photo and then when the gun was introduced I knew everything was not what it seemed. Fantastic poem, Joe!
The tension building and word choice here is absolutely amazing! I was awaiting whatever was to come with bated breath.