Tag Archives: writing

The Traveller’s Lament – Epic Fantasy Song — Medieval Fantasy — Fiction

We hear of travellers long ago,
Who slew great beasts and won some gold.
We hear how they overcame their foes,
Bringing hope and peace, and how they were bold.

But when they die, what happens next?
New fears come home and perils stay,
New heroes come along and there’s no time to rest,
For fight they must, risk their lives if they may.

And what about me, when do I go,
And prove myself to everyone?
I will dare to defeat and overcome fear and foe,
I will be as great as the greatest, when I am done.

Now that the shadows are clearly seen,
And the enemy strives to kill,
I shake and shiver — what does all this mean?
I hide away. I cannot find my will.


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A Date With the Doctor At the Opera House – Fiction Short Story — Romance

Kim sat staring at the phone in her hands, her heart racing at a thousand miles per hour. She felt sick to her stomach at what she had just heard. There has to be some mistake! she thought to herself.

She listened to the message again.

‘Hello, Ms. Davis, this is Dr. Jonathan Scott. I would like you to come to my office at your earliest convenience. It’s very important. Thank you.’

No, there was no mistake, Dr. Scott had said her name. But she had just been for her bi-annual check-up, and they had done all the usual tests. Surely Dr. Scott would have given her an indication that something was suspicious.

On top of all that, Dr. Scott had been his usual flirtatious self with her, which had left her internally flustered in the best possible way.

Kim had had a crush on Dr. Scott since he had become her doctor three years ago, and for the past three years, she’d been fantasizing about him all sorts. He had always given her the impression the flirting was genuine. She would see him twice a year, and every time she had talked herself out of making any moves because he was probably with someone already, and he was her doctor.

He was a meticulous doctor, a caring doctor, and she had just been to see him earlier this week. So why would he need to see her again so soon?

No, this had to be a mistake.

Kim nervously dialed the number to Dr. Scott’s office and asked the secretary to transfer her. At the sound of his voice, her heart skipped a few beats.

What didn’t help was that the secretary’s voice gave away that she might know more than she was letting on. ‘Oh, yes, he will be relieved to hear from you so soon.’

Oh, dear, Kim thought, this must really be bad.

‘Ms. Davis,’ came Dr. Scott’s voice, cordial and in good humour as usual.

‘Hi, Dr. Scott. You said you wanted to see me?’

‘Yes. I would like to call you into my office to’ — he hesitated — ‘discuss a matter with you, if possible.’

Oh my god, I’m dying!

‘Yes. I can come right away.’

‘Excellent. Speak to you soon.’

Why the Hell did he sound pleased!?

Panicking, Kim picked up her purse and hurried to Dr. Scott’s office. It was only a few short bus stops away but it felt like the longest bus ride in her life.

When Kim was finally sitting in front of Dr. Scott in his office, he clasped his hands together, looking nervous.

‘There is a matter I wished to discuss with you,’ he began in a tone she had never heard from him before.

Oh my god, my life is ending!

‘I’m dying, aren’t I?’ blurted Kim. ‘Tell me how many months I have left.’

‘What?’ Dr. Scott looked genuinely confused. ‘What are you on about, Kim?’

He always called her Kim in person, using the informal name, which made her heart flutter, but this time, she was freaking out too much to even feel that flutter.

‘I just had my bi-annual check-up. The reason you’re calling me in so soon after is because you found something, haven’t you? I’m dying, aren’t I?’

Dr. Scoot merely gaped at her.

‘Oh my god, it’s really that bad, isn’t it?’

‘Uh, you’re not dying,’ Dr. Scott reassured her.

‘I’m not? Then what’s wrong with me?’ Kim was unsure of what was going through Dr. Scott’s mind, his face remained one of surprise.

He let out a nervous laugh and put a hand on his forehead. ‘This is embarrassing.’

‘Look,’ began Kim, ‘if I’ve got something wrong with my health, I’d rather you just come out and tell me. Don’t mince words, okay.’

Dr. Scott’s expression relaxed. ‘Your courage is one of your loveliest traits, you know that?’ He fidgeted. ‘I’m sorry. The reason I asked you here is, well, I preferred to discuss this in person than over the phone but…’ He smiled — he had such a handsome smile. ‘I’ve won some tickets to the opera.’

‘The opera, wow, that’s fancy,’ remarked Kim.

Dr. Scott let out a small laugh. ‘I, uh…’ He hesitated again, looking like he wanted to say something.

Oh! My! GOD! Is he going to ask me out? Kim was suddenly freaking out about freaking out and felt absolutely embarrassed.

Dr. Scott met her gaze. ‘Would you like to accompany me?’

It was Kim’s turn to gape. Internally she was shouting and jumping up and down, waving her hands wildly about.

After a moment without an answer, Dr. Scott looked at his feet. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘I’d love to!’

He looked up at her, beaming. ‘Great, uh, well…’ He told her the time and day, and the time he’d pick her up. ‘There is a lovely quaint restaurant right next door. I was thinking we could have dinner first, then walk over to the Opera House.’

‘That sounds wonderful.’

‘Excellent. Uh, I have your address on file, so…’

‘Yeah, see you then.’ Kim stood and started for the door. ‘Hey, I’m sorry if I freaked out.’ She still just felt so embarrassed.

‘Don’t worry about it.’ Dr. Scott smiled nervously. ‘I was vague, I apologize if my timing made it appear as though-’

‘No, it’s fine!’ Kim interrupted.

The two smiled gingerly at each other, both fidgeting awkwardly for a moment before Kim nodded and walked out of the office, letting out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

When she passed by the secretary’s desk, the young woman there grinned knowingly.

Kim stepped outside and paused, trying to process all the feelings she was feeling, and then she breathed out a long, relieved and excited, ‘Oh! My! GOD!’

Dr. Scott was waiting downstairs after ringing Kim’s doorbell. He greeted her with a bouquet of prairie gentians, which Kim brought back upstairs before joining him downstairs again. He took her hand and brushed a tender kiss to it before offering her his arm.

‘Thank you, Dr. Scott.’

‘Please, Jonathan.’

He was dressed in an elegant suit; it was strange seeing him out of his scrubs, and he looked most handsome.

‘Uhm, so, do you participate in contests for opera tickets often, or…?’

‘Oh, some lawyer friends of mine come here often enough, they entered for me,’ replied Jonothan. ‘If I’m honest, I’d been trying to think up an excuse to ask you out for a long while now.’

‘Really?’ Kim beamed. ‘Me too. I mean, uh…’

Jonathan chuckled. ‘I guess we were both trying to pluck up the courage, then, eh?’

Kim stopped, turning to face Jonothan. ‘You’ll have to stop being my doctor, won’t you?’

‘Yes. I was hesitant you’d say no and I’d never be able to see your lovely smile ever again,’ replied Jonothan.

Kim felt her cheeks flush. ‘Honestly, I don’t know if anyone would ever decline an invitation from you, Dr. Sc — I mean, Jonathan. I feel lucky to be out on a date with you, to begin with. You are just such a lovely man. You’ve won opera tickets, yet I feel like I’ve won the lottery.’

Jonathan opened his mouth to speak, blushing significantly, a wide smile spreading across his face. ‘You are…beautiful inside and out.’

Kim felt herself blush. Then, they resumed.


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Questionable Origins – Fiction Short Story — Drama

Thomas sat on the sofa, while his mother, Linda, was cleaning the living room.

‘Do you have work later, honey?’ she asked.

‘Nah, day off,’ replied Thomas.

‘Then get your butt off that sofa and help your mother with the chores so she can go do the groceries.’

Thomas rolled his eyes. He sighed.

‘Oh, poor you, a young man of twenty has to stand up. Meanwhile, your mother does everything around here.’

‘Yes, mother,’ sighed Thomas. ‘I’ll take care of the rest of the chores for you.’

‘Good!’ She giggled, squeezing his cheek and then handing him the vacuum cleaner.

Chuckling and shaking his head, Thomas began cleaning the bookshelf with the little vacuum brush. He paused, inclining his head and took out the photo album. He laughed as he flipped through the pages. His little sister’s face as a baby was so funny. She was adorable.

‘Hey, mom?’ asked Thomas. ‘Why don’t you have baby photos of me at the hospital?’

‘Oh, the camera was stolen, honey, before any photos could be developed,’ replied Linda.

‘Right, I remember now.’ Thomas put the album back and resumed cleaning as his mother stepped out the door.

A few moments later, the front door burst open as though a typhoon had just entered the house.

‘Guess who aced her math exam!?’ announced Sophie.

Thomas let everything fall to the floor, not bothering to shut the vacuum cleaner off, and ran to his sister, lifting her off the ground.

‘Congratulations, Sophie!’

They laughed. ‘Thank you, thank you.’ She bowed dramatically. ‘I definitely get my brains from dad, and not my brother.’

Thomas playfully shoved her.

‘Mom’s got you cleaning on your day off?’ asked Sophie.

‘You guessed it.’

Sophie went to put her stuff away and do whatever it was she did when she came home from school before coming to help Thomas.

‘Ooh, photo album. You didn’t place it back properly.’

‘Whatever,’ laughed Thomas.

Sophie began realigning everything Thomas had vacuumed around, making sure everything was neat. ‘A shame mom and dad lost the photo album that contained your baby photos, eh?’

‘What do you mean?’ Thomas powered off the vacuum cleaner. ‘Mom told me the camera got stolen.’

‘Uh, no, I distinctly remember dad telling me the album was lost,’ corrected Sophie.

Thomas scowled. ‘Why would they tell each of us a different story?’

Sophie shrugged. ‘Beats me. Buuut, maybe they just misplaced it.’ Her face lit up. ‘Oh, I know, I bet it’s buried under piles of boxes in the attic!’

Sophie grabbed Thomas’s hand and began pulling him towards the attic’s hatch.

‘Seriously? You want to go looking for it now?’ complained Thomas.

‘No time like the present! Who knows, maybe we’ll find some skeletons up there.’

‘Why do I get the feeling you’d be excited if we actually did find real skeletons up there?’

‘Because you know your sister so well! Now come.’

Up in the attic, they sat cross-legged, rummaging through boxes and discarding anything that seemed unimportant.

‘Ooh, look at this. Mom and dad’s wedding photos,’ said Sophie.

‘Doesn’t look like our neighbourhood,’ noted Thomas.

‘No,’ Sophie flipped the photo, looking at what was written on the back. ‘Here it says, Saint-George Church.’ She paused. ‘Oh, that is way at the other end of the country.’

‘Huh, they never mentioned getting married there or moving,’ mused Thomas. ‘Strange.’

Sophie took something else out of the box. ‘It looks like there are a bunch of things from back then.’

She pulled out a baby onesie. ‘Oh, my god! This is so adorable!’ Her voice reached high-pitch levels Thomas wasn’t sure she had ever reached before.

‘Okay, you opera singer, don’t freak out,’ Thomas teased.

‘I bet you this was yours. Why would they keep it stashed away up here, though?’ Sophie turned her head and sneezed into her elbow. ‘Sorry.’

‘Bless you.’

Sophie dug into the box again, as Thomas took the baby onesie from her. It was yellow with little white bunnies on it. It was adorable.

‘Oh my god!’

Thomas looked up to see Sophie’s aghast face. He had never seen her like this before, and his heart immediately began to thump with worry.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.

Sophie hesitated. She was holding a cut-out piece of newspaper.

Sophie began reading the article. ‘“After reporting her one-year-old son missing, Mrs. Deirdre Emerson was sentenced to life in prison for allegedly killing her son. She pleaded not guilty and maintains that she did not kill her son.’”

‘Okay? And?’ Thomas didn’t like the look on his sister’s face.

Sophie looked up at him. ‘You remember how I used to tease you all the time about your nose?’

‘Uh, yeah? Because my nose is significantly different from yours or mom’s or dad’s.’

Sophie handed him the news article. ‘That woman has your nose and is from the same town where mom and dad got married.’

Thomas took the article cutout and stared at the woman’s mugshot. He gently touched his nose. There was a distinguishable resemblance. The implications hit Thomas in the gut and he felt like the room was spinning.

‘Deep breaths.’ Sophie’s voice seemed distant. Thomas stared up at her, realizing he’d been holding his breath.

Suddenly every little inconsistency he’d noticed throughout the years and the strangeness of it all came crashing down. He gasped, putting a hand to his chest.

‘No, this isn’t possible.’

‘Don’t you want to find out the truth?’ insisted Sophie.

‘You’re romanticising,’ snapped Thomas. ‘It’s just a coincidence.’

‘Why would they keep this, then? Huh? And then why would they hide it in the attic?’ Sophie paused. ‘I think you were kidnapped, Thomas.’ Thomas heaved. Sophie pressed on. ‘If it was just a question of adoption, then this woman would not have been accused of killing her baby. Her baby disappeared, and it has to be you, it just has to be!’


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What Truly Lies At the Bottom of the Bermuda Triangle – Fiction Short Story — Science-Fiction (Sci-Fi) — Mystery

The Bermuda Triangle has been a subject of mystery for decades. It is unknown what truly lies at the bottom of the Bermuda Triangle. Hence, a team of scientists and researchers has been diligently striving to find a way to get down there and record their findings. What they found changes what has been canonically taught in science and history for centuries.

‘I got it!’ Eric enthused, running across the corridor and sliding into the main conference room where sat Esme, Jason and their project’s leader, Henry. ‘I got it working! No amount of magnetic pull or interference will affect the alloy!’

Henry grinned. ‘Well, then, we know what we have to do next. Good work, Eric!’

‘Thank you, Sir!’

Several weeks later.

Eric stood before the team, pacing to and fro excitedly as he explained everything they needed to know.

‘This way, the synthetic material that imitates metal but isn’t metal cannot be affected by anything that would otherwise affect any other type of metal found on this earth.’

He paused and pointed at the displayed image on the whiteboard. ‘Once the water pressure kicks in, it’ll be important that we don our suits. While the sub has all the necessary components to remain undamaged, were the unthinkable to happen, we’ll need an effective and safe way to get back up to the surface alive.’

Eric walked over to where a mannequin wore a special underwater suit. ‘Our suits are designed to withstand the underwater pressure, are bulletproof, and the self-contained oxygen renewal system will allow us to breathe…basically forever. And the jetpacks will propel us to the surface faster than any other type of jetpack to have ever existed.’

‘That’s all great for surviving down there,’ began Jason, ‘but what about the recording equipment?’

‘Also designed to withstand the same kinds of pressure and anomalies we ourselves might face down there,’ explained Eric. ‘We should be able to maintain a connection with Henry — I mean Major Henry — and the surface team, but if that connection is severed, we can still record everything and bring it to the surface with us when we return.’

‘And you’re certain everything is safe and ready?’ demanded Henry.

‘Yes, Sir.,’ replied Eric. He was more than confident they would succeed, and he did his best to quell the giddy excitement he felt at the prospect of discovering history-changing truths.

‘A lot is riding on this,’ breathed Esme. ‘While I’m confident we’ll survive the trip down and back, if we fail… The government put a lot of money into this project.’

‘A lot of money from a lot of countries,’ corrected Henry. ‘They’re going to have a lot of difficulty explaining where people’s tax money went if this fails. If the project succeeds, then we’ll have one hell of a story to tell people about the Bermuda Triangle.’

‘Then let’s make sure we don’t fail!’ declared Jason.

Eric bounced excitedly behind Esme. ‘Jason, your brother’s acting like a five-year-old again,’ Esme teased.

Eric playfully slapped her arm as Jason chuckled. Jason felt warmth in his heart, for here he was, living a dream, with the woman he loved and his brother. He winked at Esme before bringing the submersible further into the depths of the ocean floor.

‘We’re finally doing this, we’re here!’ exclaimed Eric. ‘And it’s all thanks to my technological innovations.’

‘You really are a genius, I must admit,’ said Esme.

‘All right,’ said Jason, ‘taking us close to the Triangle itself.’

They had submerged into the Atlantic farther north and now were moving towards their destination. Jason was nearly as excited as his brother was, but had always been able to maintain more calm.

‘Bringing long-range scanners on the scope,’ Jason announced. He looked back at his brother. ‘Eric, sit down.’

Eric rolled his eyes. ‘Fine.’ He flipped some switches on his devices and began processing the data coming in.

‘Opening a channel,’ said Esme. ‘Sir, can you read me?’

‘Loud and clear, Esme,’ Henry’s voice came through. ‘I can see the data you’re transmitting along with the visuals.’

‘Excellent. Jason’s taking us to it.’

‘Any magnetic pulses or scramblings yet?’ asked Henry.

‘None whatsoever,’ replied Esme, ‘all thanks to Eric.’

‘That’s what I like to hear.’

Everyone fell quiet as a distant mountain of debris came into view. Jason readjusted his vector, taking the sub in closer and angling it to go around the pile of scraps.

‘My god,’ breathed Esme. ‘This is a whole underwater graveyard of ships. We’ve got 15th Century ships as much as 20th Century cruise ships.’

‘That’s not all,’ said Eric. ‘Not only are scanners picking up older tech, but look,’ he pointed at a structure within the pile of rubble. ‘Those are planes, that one’s a U.S. P51 Mustang. Those were used during the Second World War.’

‘There’s got to be hundreds of crashed and sunken ships and aircraft down here,’ said Esme.

‘I’m taking us around the debris,’ informed Jason. ‘But isn’t it strange how the pile just goes higher and higher?’

‘That’s true,’ Eric agreed. ‘The closer to the centre of the triangle the sunken aircraft and ships pile up, the higher the pile becomes.’

‘Could the explanation be a stronger magnetic pull in the centre of the triangle?’ Henry asked from the other side of the line.

‘Negative, Sir,’ replied Eric. ‘Scans are showing the same amount of magnetic interference being equally distributed everywhere.’

‘That’s odd. I was certain the explanation would remain within typical logical reasoning.’

Esme folded her arms, grinning. ‘Are you saying you’re finally coming around to the idea of aliens, Sir?’

Henry sighed. ‘No, but I’m not ruling that out either. Be it, aliens, the earth’s natural magnetism or whatnot, we can’t rule anything out yet. In fact,’ there was a bit of static — ‘so that we can then…’

‘Sir? You’re breaking up, Sir. Henry?’ Esme sighed. ‘We lost contact with the surface.’


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