Creative Writing: The Cold War

only for an hour or two but 1 day a green light gas came threw

(G) This war is starting to really affect my men. (C) I understand George but, I cannot give you my men. (G) Yes General I know you can’t and I will not force you. I just ask that you think about it not for me, but for the people. (C) As you wish George, I will think about it but do not get your hopes up. (G) Thank you General and I will not. (C) Your welcome George. How is your wife doing? I haven’t spoken with her in a while. (G) Thank you for asking she is doing just fine I will let her know you asked. (C) So George, what is your next attack plan? (G) I am not fully sure there General, it is as if the British can read my mind. They are always alert on the attacks. I was planning a surprise attack but I am not so sure if I should go on with it now.

After the battle of Somme, I was alone. All the men I had signed up with were gone. There was no time to grieve for them; Our division had to meet up with the others at Vimy Ridge. Immediately, we were handed maps of the Ridge. It was odd. We all had our own map to keep and study and we were explained exactly what to do. We even had to go through a scale model to know the lay of the land. Talk about overkill. It was nerve racking because of our tactic called a Creeping Barrage. After firing shells at the Germans for three weeks straight, we slowly aimed higher and higher while we followed the line of fire slowly. That way, the Germans would not be able to leave the trenches until it was too late. In those days that lead to a victory, Canada

Sunlight leaked from the small hole in the wall. Unlike the ridiculously good weather, ear piercing- screaming, devastated crying and wicked laughter caused goosebumps on Soon-Young’s arms. She lazily rubbed her eyes. Her whole body felt sore- her muscles ached painfully each time she attempted to stand up. Soon-Young blinked her eyes. She wished that she was experiencing a vivid hallucination after what she saw. She realized she wasn’t in home.

A dark and smoky gray night fell over the green grass. An old lamp at the end of an overused power cord of a wooden pole was swinging in the wind. It lit up the surroundings of the construction and printed my moving shadow on the wall behind me. In the half-light of dusk, I walked out of the ruins that minimally protected me from the wrath of the RPF and showed my face to a fire-breathing dragon. I walked into a thick and wet mist that linked up with the wind to whisper ghostly oohs in my ears. I was scared and my legs trembled. Under the dim light, I could not see anything. The smoking of the war clouded the roof of the region and the cold breeze spread an odor of blood and brought the moans of dying people. The dense haze covering my vision

On August 21, 2015, a suspected terrorist walked shirtless out of a bathroom on a train traveling to France. He was carrying an AK-47, a pistol, a box cutter, and lots of ammunition and he quickly began firing at the people on the train, wounding several. The incident soon had the look of a horrible mass shooting in which there would be dozens of casualties, but then, three American friends and a British man attacked the gunman. They tackled him to the ground but the gunman got out a knife and began slashing at the men, wounding one of them. However, the hero’s on the train choked him into unconsciousness. The total time elapsed was less than 90 seconds.

"Rose what the hell is going on?" Mark asks as Steve and Rose usher Susan and him back to the car and begin taking weapons out of the trunk- and is that Captain America's shield?

It was a bright and sunny morning on September 1st of the year 2020. I felt the heat from that blazing ball of fire 92.96 million miles away. While it was mid afternoon I still did not want to wake up. But as the sun continued to fire off burst of light and heat, my bed began to feel more like a oven. As with any morning I put on the closets clothes to me. Before leaving my room I looked, well fumbled around for my glasses until I could find those thick nerdy things.Then my searching for my phone which was under tens of thousands of clean and dirty clothes mixed together. After wasting 30 minutes digging for my phone I felt the sharp corner of rubber and metal. Without hesitation I grabbed it out as clothes fell to take its place. When my morning

The back of the truck was dark, but the light from the warehouse peeked through the canvas around the bottom. I pulled it up a sliver, laying on my stomach so I could see what was going on. I could either see without being able to shoot, or I could stick my gun out of the crack and shoot blindly.

It was early morning and the Student began showing signs of life, other than breathing, he opened his eyes, he looked around, then sat up, he was in minor pain but, nothing he wasn’t used to. The crackling fire, the only sound he heard as he got off of the stone tablet, he wobbled alittle on his feet, but he eventually found his balance, finally on his feet he examined himself, the bandages on his body wrapped around him, and were heavy on his shoulder, he remembered, the hammer spike from the bandit warlord, he placed his hand over it, and pulled off the bandages, the long strands fell to the ground, he looked at the scar on his shoulder, it was a circle with several crooked trails that branched off., he reached over and felt the same on

All he knew was that the woman impaled on his cock, and screaming in pleasure was unlike any he'd ever been with before. He'd was giving her what she'd asked for, through all the mocking and taunts, and making her plead and cry out with pleasure as their flesh slapped together, his balls smacked her thighs, and the lewd, wet sounds of their fucking echoed around the room. The pleasure or the pain, which would remain in her linger in her memory for longest, and which would she in future crave

The man in the picture is heavily concentrated on whatever is in front of him at the moment. It is difficult to tell if he is concentrated on what is actually in front of him or he is desperately trying to distract himself from his problems in the first place. I can see the anguish in his face as he puts his arm down on the ledge of the building. The man is wearing a thick leather coat, it seems like it is the middle of winter. He is trying to protect himself from the cool scopes deep down and the chills all throughout his body. He looks like he needs to have a couple moments to himself and try to get his mind cleared by moving to the roof of the building, and try to get a different atmosphere. He looks like he just want to be alone.

Every noise and sound had stopped with his thoughts. What he was going to do was not het decided. Did he want to go? Buy the family some pride? Or simply just hug cowardice and selfishness? It was a difficult decision, so difficult that by the thought of it every vessel and vein shook. The answer to the questions were not found in any book or letter he knew, he knew that this was a dead end and the only way out was either climbing up or going back. Everybody had gone and no one was left, they all were as fierce as a lion but no thought of his could ever even imagine himself a little bit similar to them, not even the slightest bit. His whole mind was full of darkness and it was very hollow, no goal, no pride, no outcome. He had complained and

The sound of shattered glass rang out trough the hallways and within seconds the place of mobbed with zombies, clawing at the air of discover the source of the sound.

It was dangerous, oh so dangerous. She shouldn't have risked it, shouldn't have tried. For once, he caught her heart he kept it.