The Emperor awoke to the morning sun softly kissing his cheek. Six months had passed since his father’s unexpected demise. At 11 years, the unprepared dreamer, Lin Tai Yu ascended to the throne.
Beyond the trees, northern armies amassed. The cruelty of his father’s crumbling empire spawned an insatiable appetite for revenge.
The child Emperor, oblivious to the cost of his father’s reign, hiding out in treetops playing foolish games.
Written for Week #234 of Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt. (Word: Empire, Count: 70) Photo credit: Unknown via WWHY.org. Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.
This week’s #TLT Day of the Dead inspired image got me wondering if the dead have rituals they abide by on the other side. Hope you enjoy…
We’d spent the day visiting our loved ones at this year’s ‘Day of the Living’ celebrations and back in the crypt I was feeling sad.
Sitting together, Mom explained, “It is ok to miss our family and friends and someday we will all be together.”
My big sister added, “They must travel their own roads to complete their journey home.” but deep down I just wish they’d hurry up and get here.
Written for Week 301 of Sonya’s Three Line Tales challenge. Photo credit: Valeria Almaraz via Unsplash. Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.
Adrianne loved to read but the contrived notions of modern prose no longer ignited her imagination.
Searching, she jumped a steam-powered carriage to the old city market.
A push and a step through an old weathered door and Adrianne was lost to the vellichor of the old bookstore.
Written for Week #233 of Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt. (Word: Vellichor, Count: 48) Photo credit: Sung Kim via Murals Your Way. Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.
As the kids were getting ready for Halloween, I was working in my basement lab. I just need to combine the final ingredients and administer a dose to the mice in cage one. I’d be done in 20 minutes and life expectancy would double for the rodents. Of course, it would be months before the results were in.
My twins, Super Mario and Princess Peach were dressed and ready to go as I emerged from the basement. “Let’s go Daddy!” they exclaimed in such perfect unison you’d think they were identical. It was only another minute, and we were on our way unaware of what was happening beneath our feet.
Five doors down we heard creaking, Peach said it was coming from the coffin on the neighbour’s front lawn. Ten doors down we heard shrieks of horror. Mario insisted it was the motion sensor ghost he’d passed.
Fifteen doors down the other kids (and parents) were running past us screaming They weren’t even stopping for candy. “What’s the scare? I asked one Mom. She just looked behind and kept running.
Someone else screamed, “Giant mouse, run for your life!”
Next, I heard sirens and other vehicles speeding by. They looked like they were stopping at our house. An explosion rock the night sky and a picture frame landed at our feet.
“That’s us with Mommy.” said Peach.
“Not possible.” I replied but then I saw it, 12 feet high and 25 feet long from nose to tail. It was the biggest mouse I’d ever seen. It surveyed the neighbourhood then started snapping up kids like they were snacks. Neighbourhood families tried to flee but five more emerged to surround them.
Only then did I realize what was happening. The Lab, my home, oh God! Six mice had been dosed with my serum. It was supposed to promote longevity but instead, they grew and grew and grew. They would have their fill of trick or treaters before scurrying into the night.
So as you get ready for this Halloween, remember they are still out there and they are hungry. They may be waiting in your neighbourhood to find their favorite treat, candy stuffed children. So this Halloween be sure to look over your shoulder and listen for squeaking, and if you hear it run for your life!”
Pumpkins carved by Emily and Greg Glazebrook. Photo Credit: Greg Glazebrook Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.
Written for Week 300 of Sonya’s Three Line Tales challenge. Photo credit: Tandem X Visuals via Unsplash. Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.
Sitting in a coffee shop corner table, tea no longer steaming but still warm. The glass door bending the mid-morning sun catches my eye. I instinctively look up and glimpse her silhouette. My heart skips a beat as she walks towards the counter.
I sit up, mesmerized as if the rest of the world had fallen from beneath me. A pang of guilt fills me as I can’t turn away, can’t take my eyes off her. She is tall, beautiful, imperfect, and all together, together. She radiates a confidence that captivates me, holds me and wraps me up like a helpless suitor unwittingly entangled in her web.
The barista hands her a cup as she turns on a heel. For a moment I’m certain she glances my way. Maybe she notices but keeps her cards close as she walks past me. I try to smile but can only breathe her in as she continues out of my life.
With a deep sigh, I return to my morning ritual. She lingers on my senses for a moment, then impulsively, I jump to my feet and race for the door.
This might be my one chance…
…but I’m too late. Standing on the sidewalk scanning the cityscape, she’s gone as quickly as she arrived.
Photo Credit: Unknown Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.
She lay asleep inside her Guardian’s twisted fairytale cabin, seemingly peaceful yet unwakeable.
She’d been cautioned by childhood stories of forbidden fruit but Antanasia couldn’t resist the crimson apple the craggled old woman carried within the weathered basket on her arm.
With one bite she fell under the witch’s spell, imprisoned in her own nightmare, longing for her fair love to release her from this curse.
Written for Week 298 of Sonya’s Three Line Tales challenge. Photo credit: Toa Heftiba via Unsplash Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook. All Rights Reserved.
Grey suit, clean shaven, hair brushed back, I enter the courtroom. The verdict moments away. I know I’m right, my team fought hard to prove it but it’s in the hands of the twelve. The defendant, an American icon, a bully hell bent on taking what it wants. Ideas, prototypes, money, control.
…and then the moment, “Not Guilty.”
It couldn’t have been more obvious, yet so muddled all at once. A monumental decision only the courageous could make. The jury, now released, slink back to their every day, using my beautifully simple creation willfully unaware of how there lives had been altered.
…as if I’d already faded to oblivion.
Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.
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