K.A. Ashcomb's Blog, page 7

Day 142 Writing Short Stories And Ruminating

Vain

Her hair grew long. She combed it every day, hundreds of times, to make it shine. She smiled at her own image in the mirror. Her green eyes shone brightly and beautifully. This was all she had wanted. To be the talk of the town, to be admired, to be loved by everyone. There was always a suitor under her window. She had a pick of paramours for every mood of hers.

The maid hurried in with the emerald-green dress. She was to make a turn at the city’s new library. She was to look her best...

Day 141 Writing Short Stories And Ruminating

Simper

There’s no forgetting. There’s no music to lighten the mood. There’s no simper of a young girl. There’s only the broken bodies, the horror only human minds can come up with.

She watched the dead bodies piled on top of each other. There was nothing left on them except skin and bone, and their hollow eyes without light. She had to look away. The rag over her mouth didn’t shield her from the smell. The rag didn’t hold back the horror and nausea coming in waves.

This was war. It was ...

Day 140 Writing Short Stories And Ruminating

Sauna

She curled up quietly at the top of the bench under the huge washing basket. All the people had gone inside the house to prepare to sleep. They had thrown their last water onto the stove for the house-elves. This was her chance to catch them. To see if they were true, or if her parents had made the elves up.

She stayed there curled, enjoying the diminishing heat. It was so nice that it made her want to close her eyes, but she knew she mustn’t. Strong men had died when they had fallen...

Day 139 Writing Short Stories And Ruminating

Flirt

The bar was crowded, and the music made it difficult for everyone to hear each other over it. The different smells and the lighting made her head ache and want to flee the place. But that wasn’t an option. She looked past all the aliens in search of the one man she knew to live in the bar if he wasn’t in space.

“Hey, there,” a humanoid walked up to her, flashing her his smile or hers. She couldn’t tell entirely.

“I’m not in the mood,” she said, leaving the alien behind.

“Bitch,...

Day 138 Writing Short Stories And Ruminating About Writing

Bee

The heat blasted against her face as she hunched over her desk. She had a magnifying glass folded over her eyes as she soldered the firing and the tiny chips together. The bee was no bigger than actual bees in nature. That was the point. The robot would carry a sophisticated program within, making it easy to use remotely. She had designed the thing, so that there was no need to steer the bee. Commands were enough.

She leaned back, feeling the beads of sweat gather on her forehead. She ...

Day 137 Writing Short Stories

Blue

In the swirling darkness, the smallest blue light shone. The trees shielded the light from the night sky. It was only for the spectators. The night folk, the dead people, and for the lost, soon to be lost.

He had taken a wrong turn in the forest and felt the panic rise as he was sure he wouldn’t get out of there before nightfall. He leaned against the tree, trying to decipher from the bark and moss which direction was south and which was north.

Then he saw it — the little blue ligh...

Day 136 Writing Short Stories

Greed

There are contracts, and then there is the contract. The one that was there before any other. Humans thought they were the ones who came up with the binding laws and rules. But they weren’t. Neither was it Heaven. God relied on love and belief. It was Hell where the first binding words were created. It was for those blinded by greed. In their weak moments, they gave their word ever so easily, but when it was time to collect, they backed away, insisting they hadn’t meant it. But now ther...

Day 135 Writing Short Stories

Covet

They built her perfectly. Her skin was smooth and firm. Her smile was always alluring, and her eyes sparkled from every word, every touch she received. She never said no. Nothing was ever too much. She was made for the pleasure district. But then he came with a new chip, and there was more to her than the clients and their pleasure. Suddenly she could see the power she possessed in their covet towards her, and in those who owned her. She connected with the other pleasure bots to confirm...

Day 134 Writing Short Stories

Shun

The village stood behind him. Its walls looked bigger than they had before. There was no return. He was to be killed on sight. They had shunned him, his family disowned him for a crime he hadn’t committed.

He stood there, gazing out at the mountains and the unknown. The village had been all he knew. He could sneak back and vindicate his name. The gold they had told him he had stolen had to be hidden somewhere. And someone had planted some of them on him. The village elders had pardone...

Day 133 Writing Short Stories

Sister

The streets were packed full. People had come to watch as the sisters walked through the village, blessing it with their presence. She pushed past her mother’s skirt to see better as the women in black hiked slowly up the hillside city. Their clothes looked odd against the people dressed in bright colors.

“Ma’ma, why are they sad?” She tugged at her mother’s skirt.

Her mother shushed her to be silent.

“They carry the sorrows of the world on their shoulders,” an older woman, th...