9/11 Short Stories

After eating some food and resting, he headed to the village nearby. At his arrival, “the whole village was roused”. “Children shrieked” and “women fainted”. “Some fled, some attacked” the creature. The creature was “grievously bruised by stones and many other kinds of missile weapons”. He ran away and “fearfully took refuge in a low hovel”. (p. 83)

Meanwhile, Hulga lay in the loft of the barn, and due to the lack of vision correction, she struggled to discern the amount of fingers she was raising an arm's length away. Her optical deficiency was beginning to give her a throbbing pain just behind her eyes. The paralyzing ache gave rise to such agony that Hulga had no choice but to shut her eyes and get some rest.

Then she opened her eyes, and the steady streams of light had transformed themselves into hundreds, thousands, or even millions of dancing motes. They floated through the air and danced around her as if they possessed life of their own, waltzing along with the melody that pierced the curtain of darkness. She felt compelled to reach out to grab one, but knew they were better left undisturbed, like the dances of fireflies she used to watch as a child. One step and the beauty would be scattered.

The wind twirled around the columns, engulfing the girl standing in the center. Her hands raised as she looked to the open ceiling. She swayed with the wind, letting it push her and guide her.

I walked to it and tried prying it from the ground with my fingers. A twig broke behind me and I jumped and spun around. It was dark now and the only light was from the full moon. I had a bad feeling start to pump through me. I turned and ran trying to evacuate the danger I felt nearby. I ran through brush that looked like claws trying to grab my ankles. And as tree limbs came down snatching at my skin I tripped and fell. I saw a tree nearby that looked welcoming and I tried to use it as cover. Black wings busted through the trees and run started echoing around me in a croaked out a raspy breath.

Joe now stands alone looking up at the house, an overnight bag in one hand and his nap sack on a stick in the other... He walks up the old stones steps, noticing pieces crumbling apart... 'This place is old alright... Just what the doctor ordered'

I stretch out on my white cotton bed sheets and yawn uncontrollably. Last night was unreal. I don't really remember anything that happened. I know I was with Angelina and Tara for most of the night. And then I was with Dustin. I didn't want to think right now, I wanted to sleep. But there was no way I could stay in bed any longer. I have to wake up early, even on weekends. It's some sort of "being productive" bullshit. Also I need something for this hangover, so I pull myself out of bed and walk to the bathroom.

It was sad to see it in this state of disrepair, and she hoped to remedy that soon.

Something colorful pasted us, a purple-blue color it was. Flying around in the sky. Instead of flying. in front of us - it flew pass us, I to the field of trees that was on both either sides of us.

The beast flew overhead, its wings making a shadow on the ground at least eight yards wide. Suddenly, it began to descend. The ground trembled as it landed before me.

“OH MY GOD,” said Jeff slowly, there was a monster covered in a dark cloak with red eyes, purple dragon hands, feet, and face. Even a sharp purple tail.

Bright lozenges of the late autumn sun blaze on the farther hills, like organized fires moving silently and very fast. And when we slow right down, on cattle-grids, I can see the details: the way the dew in the grass is struck, by the sun, making tiny, shivering jewels (70).

Cronus put me back in my sheath, and continued towards the cavern that the dragon was in. I peeked out of my sheath and saw that it was getting dark as we were getting closer to the cavern. The mountains were colorless from the heavy snow that has been

The sun was still below the horizon but the clouds above the mountains were tainted the color of pomegranates. Around me the shadows seemed empty. I tried not to look into the brush as I walked down the driveway. I had stopped before, looking to see the back of the shadows; staring hard, only to have them retreat from my eyes indefinitely. Invisible birds called from within. Their sound followed me down the driveway and onto the road.

The sunset was not spectacular that day. The vivid ruby and tangerine streaks that so often caressed the blue brow of the sky were sleeping, hidden behind the heavy mists. There are some days when the sunlight seems to dance, to weave and frolic with tongues of fire between the blades of grass. Not on that day. That evening, the yellow light was sickly. It diffused softly through the gray curtains with a shrouded light that just failed to illuminate. High up in the treetops, the leaves swayed, but on the ground, the grass was silent, limp and unmoving. The sun set and the earth waited.