Tradition Before Love_Liars-In-Waiting_Dear Chiara Grace, from Chiara Grace_Wood and Iron
Catalog Guide:
Tradition Before Love
“Oh, my God, Karen, hi!” my cousin immediately greeted with her usual cheery demeanor the instant I joined the video chat. Her parents and mine were present as well. I was a bit disappointed to see my older sister hadn’t joined. Oh, well. She had her own family now. What’d I expect?At least she has an excuse to not attend anymore. “Hey, Gale,” I replied. “How’s work going?”She waved her hand in dismissal. “Fine, fine. Hours are great, in fact. They never give me the night shift!” I chuckled, albeit a little uneasily. “Yeah, that’d make it a little hard...you know...for us to keep up our tradi...
Liars-In-Waiting
The marketplace is bustling when I enter, leaving the damp alley behind. It is my central source of transportation; though grimy, the alley provides solitude found nowhere else in Dystran. As advertised by any bard or traveler, Dystran is our kingdom's "shining jewel." Whoever came up with the slogan must not have spent much time in the city. Dystran is as shining as a pig pen is fragrant.It's harvesting season, and the market shows it. Around me, farmers lug in their haul. Colorful booths are arranged, splotches of color amongst the otherwise brown streets. The central square now resembles a...
Dear Chiara Grace, from Chiara Grace
Dear Chiara Grace, When I first read the prompts for this week’s contest, I didn’t know what to do. Not because I was short on ideas, but quite the contrary. Each prompt sparked in me different ideas. Being controversial in my writing allows me to free on paper those ideas I could never speak out loud. I thought to myself that this was the theme for me. But the time to decide which prompt to choose and to elaborate came. I was driven towards writing a story about old friends that meet onwww.onedoor.cce another after a long time. But there it was, the third prompt, calling to me like a Siren that calls to a...
Wood and Iron
It was one of those days where nothing was supposed to happen. Or at least, nothing out of the ordinary. The first rays of the sun were peering in from behind the greyish-white clouds. I had my morning cigarette tucked in the corner of my lips, the tobacco smoke tickling my nostrils with familiar warmth. A pair of birds flew twittering over my head. I cannot recall exactly what they were because I didn't really care much for birds, but I hoped I had looked up.At least, I would have noticed that each bird had four wings instead of two.And that the sun's rays were emitting a pinkish haze, and th...