September 2022 --- 75 Word Writing Challenge -- VICTORY TO JO ZEBEDEE!

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Parson

This world is not my home
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RULES

Write a story inspired by the chosen theme and genre in no more than 75 words, not including the title


ONE entry per person


NO links, commentary or extraneous material in the posts, please -- the stories must stand on their own


WHEN WRITING YOUR STORY, PLEASE REMEMBER THIS IS A FAMILY-FRIENDLY FORUM


All stories Copyright 2022 by their respective authors
who grant the Chronicles Network the non-exclusive right to publish them here


The complete rules can be found at
RULES FOR THE WRITING CHALLENGES

Contest ends at 11:59 pm GMT, 23 September 2022

Voting ends at 11:59 pm GMT, 28 September 2022


We ask all entrants to do their best to vote when the time comes
but you do not have to submit a story in order to vote
as we encourage all Chrons members to take part in choosing the winning entry


The Magnificent Prize:

The Dignified Congratulations/Grovelling Admiration of Your Peers
and the challenge of choosing next month's theme and genre

AND

The option of having your story published on the Chrons Podcast next month!


Theme:

Honor (or Honour for those writing the Queen's English)

Genre:

OPEN


Please keep all comments to the
Discussion thread


We invite (and indeed hope for) lively discussion and speculation about the stories as they are posted,
as long as it doesn't involve the author explaining the plot


** Please do not use the "Like" button in this thread! **
 
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THX1138

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Land Locked Ocean Dream
The Crown

The battle-worn knight, approaching the throne, knelt.

“Lord, the foe is vanquished. The kingdom is freed.”

“Stand sir.”

“Respectfully, my state is an eyesore to the Crown.”

The king slowly descended to his level, handing him a chalice of wine.

“Stand, drink and rest. We exalt your courage and sacrifice; without it, there would be no kingdom.”

Then, lost for words, the king solemnly bowed. “Hail the Crowns Jewel!”

All hailed, “The Crowns Jewel!”
 

Victoria Silverwolf

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That Thy Days May Be Long Upon the Land

"Don't rush into marrying that young man just because you think you're in love," Mother's simulation said. Father's hologram nodded wisely.

"But Mama," Cherilyn said, "you and Papa were only ninety."

"Now, now, little girl." Father shook a finger at her. "If I were still alive, I'd take you over my knee. Wait a few decades before you get hitched."

"Yes, Papa." Cherilyn's exoskeleton creaked as she walked away.
 
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The day he died I stopped drinking.
His guitar sits gathering dust in the corner, Firebeard Jeff laid down to rest.
Memories of music, electricity reverberating through hushed crowds, and a bottle to brew the madness within.
It was a wild ride my friend.
But it couldn't last. So I retire you.
And instead your soulful melodies help soothe a buttercup heart as she rests faultless on my chest.
 
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Christine Wheelwright

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Oh Canada!
The Earth Citizen of The Year Award

“Oh, what an honor! Thank you!” I gush, cradling the stone trophy and dabbing a tear from the corner of my eye.

King Ozzy grins from his throne. He does not speak or move these days and I have noticed a distinct and unpleasant smell.

Seeking air, I go to the door of the hut and stare out at the scorched, lifeless landscape.

“Well,” I say to myself, “At least I still have my sanity.”
 

Raz2k13

Creating worlds with my words.
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Jul 27, 2022
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Oklahoma
Screw Honor

At eighteen years of age Zander was small, too small for the armor that encased his frame.
His fear was apparent as his ill-fitting armor nearly shook off frail body.

“This is our final stand. We fight for honor!” the warriors erupted with a battle cry, all except Zander.

Life or honor? He pondered.

“Charge!”

Bodies flashed around him as he stayed rooted in place.

Zander chose, dropping his sword and fleeing.

Screw honor.
 

Troyzan787

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Pittsburgh, PA
One Last Step

Jim gently shut his daughter’s bedroom door. He moved to his own, quietly placing a sealed envelope on Margaret’s nightstand.

He stepped out into the night, breathing in the salty air, and headed toward the cliffs that sheltered his home.

He HAD to protect them.

The crashing waves matched the rhythm of the throb coming from his bite wound. The heat of it already moving up his arm.

Jim took one last step forward.
 

Iwroteathing

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First Draft

There's a fellow I know, he knows no honour.
Smells worse than a corpse, but wears perfume all over.

Go ask him a favour, of course it's no bother.
He'll say yes today but deny it tomorrow.

Then our names were called, there's a war over yonder.
I looked to his seat, where is he I ponder.

The next we met, I'd lost 500 brothers.
I fell from my horse but not from my honour.
 

Guttersnipe

mortal ally
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Cocagne
Honor Gone Awry

The Samurai held his blade against his abdomen, waiting to be rescued by oblivion. He had dishonored the daimyo with his failure. The Kaishakunin held his sword ready. Before the Samurai could complete his last mission, the Kaishakunin swung, decapitating him.

"You've given me no honor, stealing my wife," he said. He cut the Samurai's stomach. He turned, seeing his distraught wife. She tearfully plunged her dagger into his neck. Her honor had been restored.
 
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JS Wiig

“Hello, muse?” “Please hold…” *elevator music*
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Honor Among Thieves

The gun barrel pressed into Tony’s eye and his vision blurred.

“It’s not good for business, see. That’s three deals you’ve botched, because you’s scared of the cops?”

“I can’t do it no more. The kids, I mean, they’re growing up and watchin’ what I’m doing. I want out.”

Pressure relented and the gun moved away.

“You want out because your kids? Fine, you got it. C’mon boys, this one ain’t worth the trouble.”
 

chrispenycate

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The honour of the family


"Father cannot hold up his head with his friends. He'd organised your marriage,"

"Our women don't join armies ."

Three brothers with knives, convinced of their virtue. But the army teaches more than marching.

"Father never bought me anything but a veil. I worked for my school uniform. I've been bringing more into the family than him."

Attack.

999 "Police? They tried. I told you they would. Care to send a meat wagon?"
 

Jo Zebedee

Aliens vs Belfast.
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blah - flags. So many flags.
For Peace

“This —” I tapped my son’s shoulder — “is our side.”

I pointed through the barricades to another street. Same small houses. Same shops selling different newspapers.

“That’s theirs.”

I drew a breath. Could I do this? Give my child a different future, without hate?

I stepped forward, to a waiting man. “Mr Hume, I assume.”

”Mr Trimble. Let’s get to it.”

There was no could about it; we would and we did.
 

Cat's Cradle

Time, now, to read...
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The New Queen's Bath

“But she’s a doll,” I whisper.
The lady-in-waiting scolds, “The intricacies of court politics aren’t your concern. You’ve been gifted this duty, this honour. Bathe your Queen.”
I lift royalty from a cushion, set her into the tub, pour lavender water over porcelain skin.
I wash flaxen locks, brush-over hair plugs, tug out knots.
Glass eyes bobble, fix onto mine – my gaze yields.
“Apologies, ma’am.”
I pray someday I might imagine this isn’t crazy.
 
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VRlass

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Bardo (srsly, that’s the name)
Unequal hearts

Sakuras fall down,
Telling story of lost grace.
Ground shall accept them.

Bushido tells us to greet death with kindness, for it is our art and craft.
For whims of heart and flesh I insulted my Sama.
Generously she offers me tantō, but I cherish her tears even more.
Honour, tarnished by love, finds absolution only in my blade.
I send her smile.
“May next world find our hearts equal.” I say, raising the blade.​
 
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BigJ

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191
The Burden of Command

The order echoed in his mind as he retreated from the flagship’s bridge.

“Totalis exitium.”

An entire world, eleven billion souls, condemned to death in a single breath.

He breached the door of his quarters and sank into his command chair.

As fleet admiral, he commanded absolute loyalty. Only he could ensure the order was carried out.

He pulled an antique firearm from his desk; examined the inscription.

Mori quam foedari.

He cocked the hammer.
 

Bowler1

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Meiyo

There was no faking this moment, as I sliced my little finger in half.

Pain filled my world, but hostile eyes were on me… it had to be real.

With great ceremony my finger was taken and presented to the Clan Boss, who leaned over for a closer look.

My moment had come… I activated micro-explosives and took his head clean off.

His death removes the shame inflicted on me… my honour has been restored.
 

Phyrebrat

www.beanwriting.com
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In your bedroom wardrobe...
Watchman
From the thunderheads of November to the kingfisher skies of summer; under corbeled vaults and beeswax cloisters, I’ve watched them, oftentimes my voice their only company.
They perished, their Eden turned to my Gethsemane and I felt the science of time develop emotions; grief.
I shall remember them.
But I’ll tick no more. The brass sun of the pendulum will hereafter set.
This day will be forever remembered in my stillness;
Not broken, just loyal.
 

Swank

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Code of the Admiralty

“Mind you don't hit their reactor… Fire!”

The transport ruptured in a cloud of debris, frost and bodies. Exec. Siryiang squinted at the surprising pastels. “Those aren’t uniforms, Captain.”

“Analysis.”


The Kilamonjaro sampled, magnified, quantified. Siryiang read the telomere report; closed her eyes. “The average passenger was eleven. Sir.”

The crew turned, intent on their Captain.



“Helm. Put us forty meters from their reactor. Targeting, fire when ready.”

“Aye, Sir!” they shouted. And died well.
 

BT Jones

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Kokumin No Meiyo No Tame Ni​


Yuika bowed to the sacred tree, bathed in a pink sunrise that would soon illuminate the blooded field below, the slain body of Hariki’s shōgun – her father – and his decimated army, slaughtered in their sleep – a dishonour demanding honourable remedy.

Standing her sword amidst the tree’s roots, she gazed upon the village she no longer belonged in, finally safe from tyranny. And with her first breath of the new world, she fell upon her blade.
 

Mon0Zer0

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The Giving Time
The hive were defeated, so claustrum Mardukh arranged a potlatch to heal his wounded honour. On the giving day, he laid out all his possessions on cloth sheets for the hive-cells to take.

When the Conqueror Pohl’s turn came, his strongest held Mardukh down and searched his robe.

“Pockets!” cried Pohl.

The hive gasped. Red-faced Mardukh was banished to the wastes.

Pohl unfurled his own possessions and one by one, the hive was indebted.
 
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