Short Story

In return, he answers my questions. I ask him if he’d seen the Rebels carrying a black boy and he responds with a yes. Then, the man claims that he would be dead, by nightfall. I couldn't take his clothes, for I had to get going. I gave him one last drink of water and then I left. My mind was burning with questions about Cush because I didn’t know if he was alive. I had to believe that he still lived. Down the road, I could see Confederates sitting by the side of the road. I ask them if they’ve seen any black people, but their answers weren’t much help. I ask another soldier and he tells me that he doesn’t know about any black people, but he states that there is someone locked in a barn a couple of miles down the road. When I got there, I had to ask soldiers for permission to look in the barn, but luckily, they granted it. I called Cush’s name and he responded. All of a sudden, a guard appeared and told me that I can’t talk to him because he is a prisoner. When I told him that the prisoner is actually my slave, the soldier stated that I had to talk to Colonel Marshall in order to get him out. When I leave, I say to nobody, “ I promise I’ll get you out

We were one step closer to base, but everyone was still vigilant of any dangers. Collins began to talk about his family life and his longing to be home again. I shared how in my wildest dreams I never thought I would be in Vietnam instead of high school. Others shared their stories shared their stories and the fear which inched through our body began to leave us. We were halfway there and Collins began to joke about Vietnamese soldiers which made my comrades chuckle. I didn't hate them. In fact, I had no dislike towards any of the soldiers who I fought. The only reason I showed no compassion for them was because it was my job. So I joined in the laughter and our pace began to slow as we talked away. We were three hours into our trek and we estimated we had walked about six miles. What we didn't know is that we actually had only walked four miles. As the chatter grew louder, someone heard movement near us. We froze like ice sickles suspended from a gutter. The fear grew feverishly throughout our group with our hands glued to our guns. We heard more movement and it seemed to be running towards us. As we continued to listen for the predator, we witnessed a red fox dart past us as fast as a bullet. We all began to chuckle and look at each other with a face with emotions mixed with fear, happiness, and every emotion in between. We contiNued our trek, but at a my h faster pace. As we walked, we did not speak. We all became focused on the common

He’s a short man with a broad chest and a clean shaven face. His buzzed peppered hair is short and starting to thin. His broad nose is long and his eyes are almond and honey brown on a broader dark olive face. He’s dressed in better clothes than Samuel with a high tech gun on his belt. It’s one of the guns from this year’s stock. It looks brand new and unused. It’s odd to find such a nice gun on such a rough man.

LOL! This last line cracked me up, Aurora. I'm in total agreement. That ship has sailed. It looked for a time –– like, 4 or 5 years ago now –– that Hammoudi might be the next homegrown tall male principal, but I'm tired of waiting for him to step it up. I don't know if he's just not working hard enough to make it happen or what, but by now I think it's time to cut him off and give those opportunities to someone else.

“When we opened the doors in the kitchen, we were shocked to find a door leading to the basement. Lying right in the middle of the floor, there were submachine guns, handguns and several rifles along with many knives. We also found a machine used for making false ID’s and driver’s license hidden in the basement that’s why Mathew Morgan’s driver’s license looks so real. Since Mr. Hudson lived alone, no one ever checked on him. As a result, when they murdered him, no one missed him. Pretty smart of Matthew Morgan to find someone like Mr. Hudson and replace him,” Steve said, shaking his head.

''Aren’t Joe and Cisco going to help us?'' Asked Barry, noticing that his foster dad and best friend were still absent as the rest of the team was preparing their plan of attack back at the lab. ''I thought you guys said they were supposed to join us here.''

Remus, seeing strait through the fake interest growled and let Moony take over his mind. He said nothing but instead rammed into the door. He bounced off it and went to do it again, this time he let his magic aid him and swirl around him as he came in contact with the sturdy wood.

constantly picked flies out of my milk pail and had to be careful that one wouldn’t land in my opened mouth. I once killed a fly by smashing it between my lips. I became desensitized to the tingling of their legs dashing up and down my skin. Maybe that’s how I built up an immune system that tolerated germs and made me less susceptible to getting sick. Like how a child would hold out a finger for a butterfly to land on, I would do that same with my hundreds of fly friends. The continuous buzzing sound of the flies throughout the farm almost became therapeutic to me.

I walk to the garage which is giant , filled with nice cars with pretty colors.  Not me though i hop on my baby a black Ducati  since I was the leader I got choice of what car I wanted or whatever so I got a sexy beast.

The trek from Abertawe home had taken longer than expected. One of the injured men needed to stop and have his broken rib re-dressed by Merlin, and the young man got sick from the pain. They'd had to slow the pace after that, and as such, King Arthur's army did not cross the border into the Lower Town until well after the middle of the night. Normally, residents lined the streets to welcome knights home from battle, but this time, the streets remained silent. However, the people had left candles and lanterns outside to illuminate the steep path to the castle. To Percival, that act had been just as meaningful as waving banners; it was a way to guide them all home.

Devoid of movement or light, the cockpit's only hint of life was the insistent hum and faint bio-chemical stink within.

In a fever pitch of need and lust, Alayna pulled Arthur back to her a newfound passion burning between them as their mouths connected. This time she found no hesitation from her knight as he responded, readily to her touch. Hands roamed unexplored the firm plains and supple curves of each other’s bodies as their tongues danced. A content sigh bubbled up in Alayna’s throat as his body pressed, soundly against hers. The hard shell of his armor both a comfort and an obstacle, she was more than willing to remove.

You concluded that you were asleep. Everything around you was pitch black and you were in a trace-like state.

It has been 10 years now since the war and for every one step forward, he takes two back. Not even the bottle has been able to comfort him in times of need. Despite his experience, he was still very naive and every time someone told him to get help he would declare “I don’t need it”, or “I’m doing better”. He was in fact not doing better. Later that same year he purchased a gun, a small, compact handgun that he claimed he had purchased because he didn’t trust his neighbors. It would sit on his bedside table, loaded and in waiting for the time that it to would get its chance to take a life from this world. As the days would go on the more he would notice it, the barrel would gleam in the sunlight, and the trigger began to entice him more and more. But he couldn’t think about that, because if he did there might not be a way out this time.

“Don’t take my answer of ‘no’ as a coward’s response, but I’m trying to make it back home to my family. Up until this point, we’ve only been gassed. We’re still in the dark, but nothing is attacking us. I think if we tough it out, we’ll make it out of here alive. But if we go snooping in the dark, there’s no telling what we might find.”