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50 Out of 50: Fifty One-Hundred Word Stories, Page 2

Gabriel Skye


  The Seasons

  Spring

  The bees and butterflies flitter hither, thither, and yon, all searching for the warm lifesblood of the flower. The grass is wearing its greenest garb; the flowers are dressed in their finest for this momentous occasion. Under the looming branches of the weeping willow two youths sit, hands intertwined like roots. They sleep in the comfort of the warm breeze, and the swaying willow woman's arms hide them from sight. The robin sings high in the branches, proclaiming that spring has fully sprung. Life is in full swing after its long winter's rest.

  ***

  Summer by the Sea

  The fresh breeze blows gently as Helios drives the golden chariot of the sun across the sky. His rays shine down on the ocean, making it shine like a giant sapphire jewel. It laps against golden sand only so far as it is ordained. The lovers lay, legs and arms stretched out, in homage to the lord of the sky. He returns their tribute by illuminating their bodies with a bronze glow, like the skin of the gods themselves. The ocean birds cry aloud, but their voices are not so harsh in their native land. The sea calls to them.

  ***

  Winter's Bite

  I pull my jacket closer around me, doing my best to keep out the cold. The teeth of the wind bite hard and deep, almost to the bone. All around me rise giants made of iron and steel, all lines with eyes that stare down at me with shivering malice. The clouds in the sky block out the sun; everything around me is gray. The world becomes a smaller and darker with each step I take.Finally I round a corner, and am met by the sight of a warm, brickwork house. Home sweet home.

  ***

  Autumn

  The brisk morning air is sharp and sweet, like cinnamon. The trees are all on fire; blazing red and yellow and gold. The sun is up but half awake, this rays doing very little to bring warmth to the cool air. Still, he has shown up to work and that is enough. He causes those trees that have shed off their green summer garments for something more colorful. The pine sheds his needles and the beach her leaves. Some of their brothers and sisters still cling to their emerald garb, making the others shine and explode like fireworks.

  Around The World

  Tuscany

  I sit on the porch and sip my glass of wine, the wide brim of my hat keeping off the rays of the sun. From small balcony atop the villa I can see vineyards stretching out for as far as my eyes can reach. I'm sure this class of wine came from one of them, though I'm not sure which. I've had many different wines, all from different places, and no of them taste as good as this. Here is the true heart of Italy.

  ***

  City of Gold

  I walk the streets of a city by the sea. Though the sky is overcast, the gilded walls rise above my head as terrace after terrace of hillside climbs upwards towards the sky. My favorite are those buildings that are monochromatic, accented with golden lining or brass architecture. These are the buildings that stand out, those that people look at. These are the palaces of Europe, the royalty of the glistening coast. Countless modern chariots pass me on the street: McClairens, Porches, Astons. Royalty dwells here, and for a moment, I am part of the family.

  ***

  D.C

  We meet at the subway station and took it from the capital to North Virginia. My cousin was telling me about all the fun times we were going have. He talked about taking me to see the various monuments and the White House. Everything is so close on the east coast he was saying. We were gonna go to New York and Philadelphia, Pennsylvania and Massachusetts. He was particularly excited for Boston. So much history, so much art, so much culture. All I could do was smile. All that was nice, but I was just enjoying the ride.

  ***

  The Big Island

  As then divers dark body broke the surface of the water, the little fish in the reef dove scattered amongst the coral. The native's snorkel mask blew out small bubbles as he went deeper, Each kick of his nimble legs brought him closer and closer to the colorful, living rocks beneath the sea. As he neared the reef, the fish forgot their fear and began to swim about, surrounding him yet not paying the slightest bit of attention to him. Suddenly, as shark swam silently from one of the overhangs. The man paused in reverence. He was in the presence of a god.

  ***

  Colorado

  The mountain man leaned against the side of the brickwork building, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his jacket. His pipe hung lazily out of his mouth, and in the dusky evening light created halos of smoke around hi messy hair. Winter was coming on quick, and the last of the autumn leaves were falling from the trees. He turn his eyes towards the Sangre de Cristos, his salvation from the sin of the city. Up there he was not just a the hairy man passing through. Up here he was a king; the steward of the forest.

  ***

  The Big Apple

  This city is too crowded. It’s sidewalks are narrow and its streets narrower. The buildings are as high as the cost of living and politicians are as low as the subway. There are far too many cars for the streets, always crashing and bumping into each other with constant honking. You're always running into people, and they have the nerve to get mad as if this was their city!. The only solace is Central Park, an oasis in the mist of a steel desert. The trees tend to block out the sounds of the city, and you can close your eyes and dream.

  ***

  The Lucky Gypsy

  Somewhere in the city of Paris a gypsy strolled along, hands in his pockets and a smile on his face. He walked up to the door of a fancy restaurant, seated himself, and ordered a bottle of their second best wine. For his first course he had shrimp, his second Onion Soup, and for this third a steak with all the trimmings. For dessert a chocolate mousse cake. He paid in cash, including tip, then bowed his head and prayed; thanking first God for his blessings, and thanking second the foolish tourist who had just bought his meal.

  ***

  Rue de Maine

  There's a little bakery on the corner of Rue de Maine, Paris, just across from our hotel. Every morning I get up early, walk over and order two crescents and a pot of coffee. I sit down in a corner of the shop, take out my journal, and begin to write. It feels like only a few seconds (though it has been several minutes) when a young waitress asks me if I need anything. I reply in French, which surprises her. She smiles, and I return one shyly. She gives me a wink and walks away.

  ***

  Vermont

  The young man sat huddled over his cup of tea inside the warm café. Outside, though the sun shone, the wind was blowing its icy breath down the clean streets of the little town. There was not a cloud in the sky, but the chill could take one's breath away. He took a sip of his tea a took a bite of the half finished sandwich that was left on his plate.He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay where it was warm and cozy. But life was outside. Life was where the wind was.

  ***

  House And Home

  I panted hard as I drove the post into the ground, digging the whole deeper. The Belizean sun beat down hot on my head despite my hat, and the heavy air made sweating a nuisance. I leaned against the pole and looked down at the next hundred yards or so of fencing that I had to complete before lunch. For a brief moment, I wondered why I was doing this, but only for a moment. My eyes fell on the orphanage that we were building; the orphanage that this fence would protect. That’s why I was doing this.

  ***

  Walnut Creek

  The fall leaves line the clean streets, and my nose is assaulted with the various smells emanating from the open doors of shops. There are people everywhere, all dressed nice, but none of them able to see it. They all have their heads down, absorbed in whatever is on the tiny screen in their hands. As I pass each one, they give me a cursory glance and keep walking. Some move their bags over to the other side of their bodies, or hold their children's hands a little tighter. Who knew my black skin had become and orange jumpsuit.

  Literature

  The White Stag

  The noble beast watched with keen eyes through the thick trees as
its pursuers stumbled through that bramble. He smiled to Himself, knowing that they were going in the right and wrong direction at the same time. They were going back to their own world. There. they may not be the royalty that they were in this, but that was where they would be able to grow once again, and be amongst own. As the stag turn away, its creamy white coat began to turn a tawny gold. " Once a king or queen in Narnia," said The Lion. " Always a king or queen."

  ***

  The Calormene

  Emeth sat under the silver branches of The Garden trees, eating the delicious golden jewels that grew on them. Next to him sat Lucy, youngest of the High Kings and Queens of Narnia, her satin black hair falling around her shoulders. She looked at the Calormene youth and wondered at his beauty; his dark, sun baked cheeks, his sable hair, his eyes as green as emeralds. He turned to look at her, and she shyly looked away. He saw her blush, and found his own bronze cheeks growing red. By the mane of The Glorious One, all was beautiful here.

  ***

  Telemachus

  The youth leaned over the prow of the ship, his eyes straining towards the horizon in an attempt to catch a glimpse of home. A year had passed since he had seen fair Ithaca, and though his time with the companions of his father had been profitable, he longed for home. Not his house, which was overrun day and night with the dogs who courted his mother. He miss his home. Me missed his mother's embrace, the kind smiles of the servants, and always, the memories of his father that hung about the walls. That was Telemachus's home.

  ***

  The Fallen Angel

  The doctor adored his creation before it uttered its first words. What must have gone through Victor's mind as the creature that he had labored and toiled to create sat up and attempted to speak. Would you not think that he, having attained the power of God to bestow life, would not rejoice and say 'It is good'? Instead he loathed the monster. for unlike God the doctor was not a perfect being. Yet he expected to create perfection. In this being, Frankenstein saw only the foulest sin, and like Lucifer before him, the creature was cast down.

  ***

  Antiquity

  Apollo slouched on his golden throne atop high Olympus and breathed a deep sigh. Across the Great Hall Aphrodite straddled Aries on his throne, the both of them dunk off of wine they had received from Dionysus. His step mother Hera was nagging his father Zeus, while dad kept one eyes on some earthy maiden far below. Artemis was nowhere to be found, and Hermes flitted around obnoxiously. The only quiet one was Hestia, whist Demeter and Persephone gossiped about her husband Hades. He glanced over at Athena, and both shook their heads. Who was left to be worshiped?