Random Short Stories
This is where I will be posting stories that were too short to really elaborate on. They will all be pretty random in topic, because they'll be spur-of-the-moment stories. I hope you like them! :)
A young girl trudged through the snow-covered field, her breath wafting around her as she read over the letter clutched in her hand another time.
To whom it may concern,
you have been called to come to the great City. Come alone, bring nothing. Failure to comply is not an option. Your presence is requested on December 31st.
The Government.
She had heard all sorts of rumours about the City. People coming out as ghosts, and skeletons being found in the river leading out of it. The most prominent rumor was that you never came back out with your flesh and blood about you. The girl shivered and pulled her wool shawl closer around her.
"Hey! Missy!"
She looked over her shoulder to see an old beggar standing in the snow behind her. His legs were lopsided, like one was longer than the other, and a long red gash ran down the right side of his face, which was covered with a thick, grey beard. He was wearing nothing but a pair of tattered slacks and a ragged shirt.
"Where you be heading?" he drawled out, his words slurred like he was drunken.
"None of your business." the girl looked back ahead of her, avoiding eye contact with the man.
"You's be heading to the City, aren't ya?"
She hesitated.
"Yes, I am. Why do you care?"
The beggar began to laugh.
" Anyone who's a fool enough to accept the call to go to the City, they never come out alive!" he cackled. "And let me tell you, you don't stay alive either, if you's refuse to come!"
"Are you calling me a fool?" the girl cried indignantly, turning to scowl at the man. He laughed again.
"No missy, you're a smarter one. It's worse, if ya don't go. Much worse."
the man lumbered away, cackling like a mad hen, and the girl was left alone again. She continued on, sad to see the man go, for at least he had been company for her on her lonely journey.
She walked for hours, until her feet ached and her fingers grew numb from the bitter cold that penetrated through her mittens. At last, after hours of traveling, she could see the tall spires of the City's buildings.
"Thank God." she breathed. She would take Death any day over having to walk another foot.
As she reached the main gates, a short man appeared out of nowhere and confronted her.
"Papers!" he ordered, in a deep monotone voice. The girl handed him her letter. He grabbed it roughly from her hand and examined it.
"All clear!" he called out, and slowly but surely the huge main gates creaked open.
"Go!" he ordered.
The girl shivered, but not from the cold. Pulling her shawl closer around her, she ventured through the open gates into the foreboding City.
The boy squinted her eyes as the bright spring sunshine blinded his vision. In his hands he held a letter, which was blurry from the tears his mother had shed on it the night before. He didn't see what all the fuss was, though. After all, it was all just superstition- right?
As the boy walked along, a beggar noticed him and chucked softly to himself. He didn't bother warning the boy- there was no point in postponing the inevitable, because it always happens.
The beggar chucked again, and set off down the muddy road in the opposite direction of the boy, still laughing gently.
"You can't escape the City," he cackled, "No sir."
To whom it may concern,
you have been called to come to the great City. Come alone, bring nothing. Failure to comply is not an option. Your presence is requested on December 31st.
The Government.
She had heard all sorts of rumours about the City. People coming out as ghosts, and skeletons being found in the river leading out of it. The most prominent rumor was that you never came back out with your flesh and blood about you. The girl shivered and pulled her wool shawl closer around her.
"Hey! Missy!"
She looked over her shoulder to see an old beggar standing in the snow behind her. His legs were lopsided, like one was longer than the other, and a long red gash ran down the right side of his face, which was covered with a thick, grey beard. He was wearing nothing but a pair of tattered slacks and a ragged shirt.
"Where you be heading?" he drawled out, his words slurred like he was drunken.
"None of your business." the girl looked back ahead of her, avoiding eye contact with the man.
"You's be heading to the City, aren't ya?"
She hesitated.
"Yes, I am. Why do you care?"
The beggar began to laugh.
" Anyone who's a fool enough to accept the call to go to the City, they never come out alive!" he cackled. "And let me tell you, you don't stay alive either, if you's refuse to come!"
"Are you calling me a fool?" the girl cried indignantly, turning to scowl at the man. He laughed again.
"No missy, you're a smarter one. It's worse, if ya don't go. Much worse."
the man lumbered away, cackling like a mad hen, and the girl was left alone again. She continued on, sad to see the man go, for at least he had been company for her on her lonely journey.
She walked for hours, until her feet ached and her fingers grew numb from the bitter cold that penetrated through her mittens. At last, after hours of traveling, she could see the tall spires of the City's buildings.
"Thank God." she breathed. She would take Death any day over having to walk another foot.
As she reached the main gates, a short man appeared out of nowhere and confronted her.
"Papers!" he ordered, in a deep monotone voice. The girl handed him her letter. He grabbed it roughly from her hand and examined it.
"All clear!" he called out, and slowly but surely the huge main gates creaked open.
"Go!" he ordered.
The girl shivered, but not from the cold. Pulling her shawl closer around her, she ventured through the open gates into the foreboding City.
The boy squinted her eyes as the bright spring sunshine blinded his vision. In his hands he held a letter, which was blurry from the tears his mother had shed on it the night before. He didn't see what all the fuss was, though. After all, it was all just superstition- right?
As the boy walked along, a beggar noticed him and chucked softly to himself. He didn't bother warning the boy- there was no point in postponing the inevitable, because it always happens.
The beggar chucked again, and set off down the muddy road in the opposite direction of the boy, still laughing gently.
"You can't escape the City," he cackled, "No sir."
1 Comment
Pfft. "The Government". Couldn't think of a good title? You could've chosen a meaningless abbrev. It made me chortle; but the nonspecifiying worked well with the theme.