Writing Prompt #2- Why the Leaves Change ColorsTrees have been around since as early as man remembers. There was, however, a grand tree who was so old, all other tress couldn't remember a time without him.Writing Prompt #2- Why the Leaves Change Colors11 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
The grand tree loved the skies that Sol and Luna painted together. From early spring to the last day of fall he would wait until the last of the color fades that belonged to Sol before resting his eyes. He would wake up early to see Luna leave for the day. And he did this every day for his entire life.
Young trees became elder, and new trees came to be. And before winter would begin, they would all sleep, for all trees in this time hated the cold. But with every year that passed, the grand tree would take more and more time to wake when each new spring began. One spring, all the trees knew it would be the last year for the great tree.
The grand old tree wasn't afraid of this coming, but he was afraid that the day he died he wouldn't get to see the nighttime sunset one last time. When his final day came, the last day before winter
Questioning A Cat's HumilityI'm beginning to think I'm more possessive of little time highlights than I let on, the perfect small ones playing such a huge role even when I was the only one rolling in that moment. I don't like staying still anyway, reading that whole book of time. Essentially, I like writing into the history textbook only I can read. Sharing it now, I could read you the very first page of it up to its current 1,800th (it's ongoing) but to keep the rambling train tracks I travel from heading too far, I'll let your eyes or ears pick up on one highlight.Questioning A Cat's Humility14 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
I remember a little furry black ball hiding in the blackness of shadows, perhaps because the colors matched. Whatever the reason, I was able to see life through the camouflage and observe. Although it had its own little kingdom - a thin rectangle space between the fences of classroom buildings - it was obvious to learn that we were the rich food merchants compared to this hungry, lowly peasant. Leaving his sanctuary to eat would've been more difficul
She opened the door.She opened the door.She opened the door.13 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
Surely nothing good could be waiting behind it.
That old and scarred wooden door.
It would be better if she just let it be.
Not releasing the unknown that's lurking on the other side.
It would be easier.
The room had always felt all right, it felt safe.
Opening the door would risk ruining everything.
Yet she still grabbed the rusty metal handle.
Because she realised that nothing would be ruined.
Whatever was behind the wooden door was just a new step in her life.
A step from which she will continuously move on to another step,
no matter what kind of step the previous one was.
Because it didn't really matter what was on the other side,
just as long as it was something new,
be it terrifying or wonderful.
Because there is no good or bad change. Just change.
And that's what she wanted. Change.
Something other than this room.
So she opened the door.
Because she had decided that she wanted to live.
Even if it would kill her.