(10 votes) (4.70)
Author’s words: Ok, so I finally decided to break my long hiatus.
After a few really annoying RL things happened I lost my groove and every time I tried to get it back I ended up in stupid thought loops. Things like thinking up a scenario, get a flood of inspiration, think it will be to long/not coherent/something equally stupid, end up not writing anything.
So, I decided to try something different with this.
I simply took a base setup and from there wrote whatever came to mind as I went. This is written paragraph by paragraph as I felt the story should naturally progress (just a little editing to fix up spelling errors etc).
Please let me know what you think.
(32 votes) (4.88)
The future looks rather bleak for Samira, a slave girl in the desert of the Southlands. She’s prayed to the Goddess for years for some kind of respite from her life, but maybe she’s been praying to the wrong goddess?
This story is part of my original MGE setting, Darkness Prevails. (Click its tag for the others.) It is the fourth entry of the series, but can safely be read out of sequence of the others. Enjoy!
(33 votes) (4.70)
The snow danced and swirled like thousands of little ghostly white dervishes in the glare of the headlights as the truck made its way down the darkened highway.
‘This is not her handiwork’ the driver said to himself for what must’ve been the thousandth time tonight. A massive winter storm system of ice, snow and gale force winds was stretching from Cape Breton to Michigan’s upper peninsula- and here he was in the thick of it, trying to keep one of the state’s highways open with metal on asphalt and thousands of pounds of silica and salt slowly draining from the dump body behind him.
Tonight’s storm had an especially harsher and far more unforgiving edge to it. Her handiwork had a seemingly more personal and almost warmer touch to them.
It was basically the difference between a snow day from school and the snows that trapped the Donner Party.