Tag: wordle

Reginald’s eyes began to gleam brightly, then started to burn holes into my skin. I screamed mercy but to no avail. If Reginald was trying to mimic a monster, he succeeded as I watched the scars form on my skin. Looking to the sky, I searched for a hero to rescue me. But all I heard was a rustle in the shadows behind the altar. It was probably the wind.

I had hoped to leave a rich legacy, but less and less, I believed that would happen. Defeated, my gaze followed the echo of the train‘s whistle in the distance.

The fire from the emeralds surrounding the beast’s eyes would surely raze the village and its inhabitants. Those in his sightline raised their voices with terror and fled quickly. The elders promptly grabbed the maps of the underground tunnels to ensure most of the villager’s escape.

With a hood covering his head, the oldest tried to navigate the mist and distract the serpent away from the entrance to them. Those needing to flee and stay safe most were the storytellers of the clan. The village needed them to remind everyone of the underworld and the realm the saints came from.

How can Gerald justify he’s doing any good works for the foundation when what we see is him sloshing around his beverages at all the charity events? He’s intoxicated right now, partying with the Crows. As Gerald rises, his long chain grazes the puzzle on the table, and it clatters to the floor. It startles him; his raw red eyes signal confusion, fear when he hears the sirens go off, and then rage. His outburst was short but terrifying. I’ve tried to remain distant, but I must make a decision. What choice do I have? Gerald’s antics can’t go on!

The takeover was not a surprise. We had hope that it would happen. It wasn’t as flashy as the facades of despots, just honest and gritty. The mighty were low in character and high on power, while the rest of us wanted to be free of their hold on us. How inconvenient their power was the reason for the destruction of our world. My heart ached every time we lost another species, or the death rate rose from pollution, or we choked on the “clean air and water.” We had a right to live the kind of lives we deserved!

I winced in disgust, swallowing this nasty blend of coffee while looking up at the wood beams. Soon, there would be a brawl breaking out, and with a hound howling in the background, accompanying the scene. I debated whether I should flick the ant walking across my table as I replayed The Ants Go Marching song in my head. No, heroes don’t do that; they shoot their enemies, not mess with the innocent. This job was beginning to wear on me, like a hood depriving me of oxygen. I’d rather be on a trip to the races or eat glass.

This desert is so hot my temper snaps with each rising degree. I sure wish a sage appeared to direct me to the edges of this dusty place. Better yet, they are magic, so transporting me to a cooler spot in the world would rock!

Add to the heat, the bruise on my thigh was swelling. Ice was the key to keeping it down. Well, that won’t happen. And it’ll turn blue soon! Oh, joy!

The sun begins dipping down, and shadows from the cactus form on the ground. I stretch my injured leg while I’m writing my last words.

I took a deep breath in this sanctuary of light, finding solace. Even now, the aftermath of yesterday’s grim events lingers. The hair on the back of my head raised, remembering the undead’s whispers.

The pretense here was a total sham. The church’s beauty was evident, with its gorgeous stained-glass windows inside. On the outside, the cemetery gardens are flush with meadow flowers of various colored petals and well-maintained, aged gravestones. But the secrets of the sisterhood sent me into a tailspin, and I fell deeply into a dark abyss where the mirage of sanctity at the abbey didn’t reside.

Gaby’s face glowed in my direction while her eyes, sparkling embers, promised me the world. A slight dip in the conversation allowed me a moment to fantasize about getting to first base tonight, but quickly, my thoughts turned to sorrow.

“I have an early day tomorrow, Kendall, and it is getting late.”

I absent-mindedly gripped the silver spoon on the table, the glimmer from the lights and trim creating wild chain-like patterns before my eyes.

“Oh, okay. Sure. I’ll get the check,” signaling to the waiter. I felt faint, yet free and in a trance all at the same time.

I pulled the string to find an old reel from an ancient tape recorder—probably recordings from a long time ago off the radio. Not that I had a desperate need to hear what was on it, but who isn’t interested in particles of a past world? It’s always cool to lose some time in this life, giving oneself over to another era, whether it was a decade we experienced or not.

It turns out that it was a confession made by my grandfather, admitting he was responsible for my mother’s death. Letting her live equated to him being jailed forever.