AUGUST 2015 75-word Writing Challenge -- VICTORY TO CASCADE!

[HazelRah]

The Valued Investigations of Hopkins and Stearne


“Please, Mr Hopkins, sir. Do not take her!” A small cry escaped from beneath her cradled arms.

“It is a product of sorcery, it cannot be suffer’d.”

“No, my Lord, tis but a mark of birth, it means not what you think,” she wept. “I won't leave her.”

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her in front of the angry crowds.

“Sithence you produced such a wicked child, there must be sorcery in you also.”

 

[hardsciencefanagain]

I hate authority.Which is why,I suppose ,all my life i've been behind bars.
I believe all are created equal.No superposition,just a level playing field .
Those in the cockpit think they are doing right, obeying orders.I will prove them wrong,by parachuting down and warning those on the ground.
Los Alamos must be fake.
Bombing innocents is madness,anyway.
I jump,a bulbous glittery projectile follows me.Enola something

 

[TitaniumTi]

WITNESS

The train mocked: you'll be late; you'll be late.

He mustn't be late. The Nazis had relented. The University, closed since the invasion, was re-opening. Almost there. Stefan counted landmarks.

Off the train, he ran, aching with anticipation. This is home.

A hubbub greeted him... shouting, a shot, screams. He peered around the corner.

A trap.

Soldiers were forcing his friends onto trucks. They hadn't been late.

**********
The train commanded: bear witness; bear witness.

 

[Grimward]

Legisavior

Grey and worn, Molly and her two small children took seats in the Hills Capitol building that morn.
Exhausted from scrubbing floors, mood Black as night, she despaired her children to escape her plight.
Blue, unyielding and effete, democratic representatives sought the bill's defeat.
Shaft of Gold, piercing heart and soul, Stevens' voice fervently opined;
“Build not your monuments of Brass or marble,” he urged. “Make them of everlasting mind!”
Black night beheld Rosy dawn.

 

[KyleAW]

Shopping done, waiting in a crowd aside Chang’an Avenue; distant roars grows close, the crowd shifts uneasily.

I try to reach the front; pushing past with white bags gripped tight. Empty avenue, distant roars are tanks, remorseless in their approach.

Brother dead, father missing, little left to care for. Tanks are more than metal; oppression of opposition, tools to destroy what others build.

Step forward, one foot at a time, nothing left but pride.

 

[johnnyjet]

An Image of Gold Sixty Cubits by Six Cubits

He was king here, master of his own domain. He grazed with the oxen, nudging them aside when he desired better grass. Long hair and sweat cascaded over his body under the high sun. His claws clutched at the dirt beneath his hairy feet. He howled at the golden statue standing tall on the far hill.

He was king here. That image of gold was for another king. Not him.

And not Daniel’s king.

 

[Bob Senior]

THE WHEEL


Cave Boss Ugh was organizing the day's hunting and work crews. "We kill mammoth."

"Ock, you saw big log in slices."

"Axel, you make axle for wood slices, make two axles and wheels."

"We join axles with three 8"x 12"x14's, make wagon."

"Any questions?"

"Yes! what saw?"

"What wheel?"

"What axle?"

"What wagon?"

"Never mind dummies, Ock, just call TWO MEN AND A SLED!"

 

[Venusian Broon]

A different bird of carrion

The man from Flanders asked, “Who is that swan amongst the crows in the distant shambles?”

“A whore looking for promised gold?” the Norman cackled.

*
​

Edith found her lover in the densest knot of mutilated corpses. Brushing aside help, she peeled the armour off the butchered body to reveal the chest mark that she intimately recognised. Grief welled but also relief. She could bury her king. A higher authority than man demanded it.

 

[Dan Jones]

The White Flower of House Tyrrell

Shap’d for sport I appear, though
Unlike the Holy Hand that guides me.
Tewkesbury made me, bound me so
To the crippled Hand that provides me.

I am the Flower by Miles of Forest,
Stifling blooms ‘neath gauntleted fists.
Foul though the deed, it’s done assurest,
Flesh made tiny shadows, mists.

Brick’d up, quarantined, by the Tower,
Withered fingers’ grip on Albion tighter,
My roots disgraced for proximitous power,
Yet will Stafford’s star burn brighter?

 

[LittleStar]

A Revolution Born

Guillaume Tellen caught his son's dying breath on the breeze. Walther's knees buckled, crushing the apple on the cobbles, the fletching glistened ruby from his eye.

The wind eased, barely cooling his tears. Guillaume reloaded with the second bolt. He wouldn't miss again.

"Please, no," Gessler said. "I didn't think you'd hit him."

Guillaume aimed for the apple of Gessler's throat, and loosed.

Even Kings would bow to the severed head standard in Altdorf's square.

 

[chrispenycate]

Yurt Licit

Ere Temüjin to power ascended
Brother might brother kill, unchecked.
Justice by strength. Blood feud extended,
Cattle theft, deaths unintended
Needs steppe-enforced respect.

Now maid with purse of gold unguarded
Could walk from Minsk to far Cathay
Through scenes of massacres, regarded
By historians retarded
Excessive force outlay

With fairness for the subject races
Balancing tribe or clan.
A legal overweave enlaces
Ensuring docile populaces
He definitely khan
​

 

[willwallace]

The Sun Rises



Deep under the Great Pyramid, Ra sleeps. Since being built by the locals, following his instructions, the planet has circled it's star over 4,500 times.

It was nearly time for him to awaken and assume his rightful position as ruler of this world, Isis by his side.

This time he vowed not to be so lenient with his subjects. Perhaps he should destroy a city. Or two.

The world trembles as he stretches, yawning.

 

[Bowler1]

The National Razor

“Next!”

The crowd shifts and stirs.

“I didn’t do anything,’ the condemned pleaded pitifully. ‘I swear.”

“Hoarding food is a crime against liberty.”

“We only had enough to feed ourselves.”

The executioner scowled. “More than most then.”

“My family will starve.”

“But the Republic and Revolution will live on.”

Pushed forward, he was locked into place and the heavy blade dropped, and the crowd roar.

One more crossed off the list.

“Next!”

The crowd stirs.

 

[Juliana]

And so, to ashes.

I, too, had seen the visions, but dared not come forth. Now my armour weighs heavily upon my shoulders, and the cross I wear beneath burns my chest in shame.

The Bishop watches as I take her arm – so young, so brave! – and lead her to the stake.

As the flames rise, I stifle a sob. The least I can do is be as brave as she.

Jeanne! She burns…

 

[Zoe Mackay]

Et in Arcadia Ego

Badajoz lies on the river, basking in the sun. It’s a lovely spot.

Not the day I visit, though. I walk through cordite smog towards a pile of bodies leaking a bloody river over the rubble of ancient stones. Private Thomas Williamson whimpers, far from his Wakefield mother. I lay a reassuring hand to quiet him. It’s my job: bringing rest after struggle, peace after conflict. The sun will shine again tomorrow, after I leave.

 

[Perpetual Man]

Taking the Reins

At days dauning
The Pilgrimes roos, yet none would take the lede.
Sweven washed from slep-fild eyen,
Night tales fild their memorie,
Knight and those that could setin their stedes.
Yet not one hembest wolde seith “Go!”

Monke, Nonne, Millere, Persone, Marchante, what-so they may be,
Til a mon, Geoffrey, persaunture claimed autoritee,
“We goon, walk or ryde, toward faire Caunterbury.”

 

[Void]

Prometheus


Stone bound, where no mortal man may tread,
Here I stand, where foresight brought my feet.
Tethered here by blood wrought chains of steel,
And here remain, ’til He deems the sentence fit.
Aeschylus etched me here and immortalised in verse
This sorry transgressing artist.


Yet here amongst the eagles and the ashes, I laugh -
Though I suffer, for the grace of humanity,
Until I am freed by the flesh of those who bound me.

 

[Culhwch]

The Heretic’s Trial

‘You know why you’re here?’

‘I’ve been accused of heresy.’

‘Will you recant your lies?’

‘I’ve spoken no lies.’

‘You speak nothing but lies.’

‘By whose authority do you accuse me?’

‘The authority of God! You challenge His authority!’

‘I’ve never challenged His authority, only your comprehension of His creation.’

‘Enough! Have you any defense, heretic?

‘Scientific truth needs no defense. God’s word shows only the way to heaven -- not the way the heavens go.’

 

[Phyrebrat]

Burning Bread

The bishop hustled the hag off the road.
‘Our Lord has supremacy over mortal matters; predictions don’t interest Him. Back to your cave!’

A perfect batch, imperfect, see;

The City burns days numbering three.
When bread is scarred in Pudding Lane,
Red the river runs with flame.
Four-fifths will cross the river styx
In sixteen hundred sixty six.

***

In London, Farriner withdrew his last batch from the oven and cursed; one loaf had split.

 

[TheDustyZebra]

Starr Chamber


I’ve never discovered anyone before. I look over my shoulder; the soldiers are busy tearing apart the wardrobe, not looking at me.

I peek once more into the tiny cabinet.

Wide, brown eyes, trembling lip, firm jaw. A tear falls on her star.

She was my sister’s friend.

Oh, what my mother will say when she finds out.

I close the cabinet, stand up. “Empty, Herr Leutnant.”

The worst they can do is kill me.