January 2018 -- 75 word challenge -- VICTORY TO SPOOTS!

[Peter V]

In Search of El Dorado


Eventually he found the city, its presence betrayed by crumbling spires, reaching like skeletal fingers above the canopy.

Another week to find the place with the books that he was to bring back to the One Who Reads; Old Greta, who would show them the legends of Meds and Tricity.

When he returned, exhausted, with the ancient tomes, Old Greta weakly took his hand.

“It is time for you to become the One Who Reads.”

 

[The Judge]

Johnny Appleseed #2


The bees died first; the orchards failed. Then everything followed. I’d warned the world, but they’d laughed. Called it scaremongering.

They’re laughing again. Not at my warnings, at my wanderings. While they’re shut in synthetic domes, breathing recycled air, eating recycled slop, I walk the broken roads, planting the barren lands with my hoarded seeds.

My orchards will grow. Bees will return, and birds. I will hear them again. One day.

Call it hope-mongering.

 

[TheDustyZebra]

Are we there yet?


“The wheels on the bus go—”

“Mummy, what’s a bus?”

“Sorry, darling. Ok… 99 bottles of— no. Oh, gods, for a beer.”

“What’s a—”

“Never mind. Ok, start over. ‘In the beginning…’ No, that’s how this all started. Dammit! Hold it together. One foot in front of the other.”

“Mummy, you’re scaring me.”

“Sorry, sweetheart. Ok, listen: ‘A long time ago, in a galaxy far—’”

“What’s a galaxy?”

“Look up, darling. It’s full of stars.”

 

[HITECH_lowlife]

SAVIOUR:


He stood at the highest precipice of Mount Glow, dwarfed by the desolate expanse that stretched out before him.

Sky awash with fire. Thunderous cracks shaking the very rock at his feet. Will it hold? It MUST hold.

The galloping getting louder. Four approached, followed by millions. Marching.


Mankind had already suffered immeasurable losses. The outcome looked bleak, but he was the One.

He hadn't believed it at first, but the visit had changed him.

 

[The Big Peat]

A Lonely Duty

There’s only me, my memories, and the Road.

—

“Save me!”

That was my final prayer. Somehow, they heard it over the earth’s mantle tearing like cheap linen.

“For a price,” said the choir. “Someone must remember. Someone must mourn.”

“Yes!”

I wandered after that, among towers serving as tombstones and cities used for catacombs. Every sight burned me with memory. Every silence broken by my tears. Everything empty. Especially me.

—-

The Road goes on forever.

 

[Ursa major]

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Keep Right On to the End of the Rowed​

“Pull…. Pull….” The cadence was incessant, its precision tyrannical.

“We can’t maintain this pace.”

“You must. The nearest land is still far away.”

By now, the rising sea would be engulfing our island home. With our sails shredded by last week’s storm, oars were all we had.

Taped to the deck, our taskmaster never tired: sunlight topped up its batteries. Only it knew the way, aided by the sky gods, Gee, Pee and Ess.
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[Mr Orange]

Left Foot, Right Foot.


Open door, dark storm. There’ll be others. Just walk.


Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot. So much dust.


Left foot, right foot. Empty streets, destroyed buildings, no one. Yet.


Left foot, right foot, left-… Jagged steel, blood.


Left foot, drag, left foot, drag… Out of town now. Sand, dust blasting, tired. Still nobody.


Left foot, drag, right hand, left hand. So thirsty, raw fingers.


Face, ground, soft dust, just five minutes rest.

 

[Mad Alice]

Hellequin's Ryde

Red Blood rain pelted these Lastlings, hunting unwinding path, leaving behind crypts of Man's Cities torn asunder.
Tonight's Black moon rose on more then Man's despair. Hope ran Wilde, this Twelfth night.
A brace of snapping Black Hounds held us.
Storm's fury dissolves into Metal Knights, aflight.
"Why do you stay This Hellequins Ride?"
We held our passage tokens, Oak, Rowan and Thorn.
"Then Ride Wilde, with us, last Children of Men. Welcome Underhill."

 

[AlexH]

The Path to the End of the World

As I walk, the path steals my shoes. I walk barefoot and it pecks my toes, taking tiny flakes of skin.

I speed up and the path chomps my soles, takes chunks of skin. I jog and it bites flesh. I run and sprint and even feel it gnawing my bones.

I slow to a walk; the path only nibbles.

I'll get to the end of the world at the pace the path tells me.

 

[Ursa major]

This challenge is now closed to new entries.

Voting is now open at the link below:

POLL -- January 2018 75-Word Challenge -- READ FIRST POST!

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