Seasons and Morning Mist #writephoto

Seasons and Morning Mist (203 words)

She remembered standing on that ridge overlooking that moorland. It had been a morning like this a little over a year ago. The sky had been that pale, cool pink softening towards a rainy afternoon chill. She remembered huddling under her cloak, trying to keep the rain out as they continued the long road to the false king’s castle.

A silly girl, that’s what she had been. A silly girl with big ideas and a bundle of arguments that meant nothing to an iron tyrant.

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Facing the Stones (434 Words)

crown

It was traditional, not to say required, to be married before the stones. The people of the fields and drops of Little Boulding had kept to this tradition, not at all a requirement, since before anyone could remember. So of course it was expected that if they were to be married, even a goblin and a man ought to be married before the stones.

On this day, the happiest day, Gnarlas was trying to decide why the man wanted to marry her at all.

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Heroes Never Die

loki_by_annikeandrews

Heroes Never Die (628 Words)

“Brother?”

Thor flinched. He knew that voice too well. He turned restlessly, trying to force it out of his head. But it was there, always there, in his heart.

“Thor…”

Thor’s elbow hit the TV tray. He cursed, throwing a plastic plate across the room.

“Get out!” he shouted. “Go away. Just leave me.”

He didn’t mean it. Not really. But he was tired and the pain was no easier. Loki, that cursed son of an ice giant. He saw him hanging from Thanos’s hand, fighting for air, for life. He heard his brother’s hoarse voice:

“You—will never be—a god.”

His death was too sudden. Thanos had thrown his body at Thor’s feet, so still and broken in a way that Loki was never broken, never finished. It was pretend. It had to be. Thor had bowed beside his brother, praying for some trick, some miracle.

No, Thanos was not a god. Neither were they.

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Little Girl

tltweek129

Little Girl (56 Words)

The aliens were sensitive to life forms, but Ji11 wasn’t a life form.

She was the last thing the humans in their containment cell expected to see, carrying the codes for their release.

Ji11 would never understand the relief on the captives’ faces, but she understood the pride in Mary’s quiet whisper: “That’s my little girl!”

***

Written in response to Three Line Tales’ challenge. Check it out! Image (c) Alex Knight.

Amorphous

redflower

Amorphous

Summer’s lease   is short
But if he had         compared her
To a cloud             we’d know
It was true             for clouds
Somehow             are never
The same               but always
Changing               under
Under                    the eye
And                       yet
They are                 always
Just                         the same
As                           a
Song.