Post-wwii Stories

Bloody wars with their untold victims––both the dead and those who survived––do not always end with peace agreements or simply by a laying down of weapons, as weary governments of involved countries soon find out. And occasionally, conflicts continue their deathly course on a much smaller scale, between individuals, between sworn enemies. The story I tell in The Serpent’s Motto captures the horrors and drama of World War II and the zeitgeist of the mid 1950s in postwar Europe. The latter period is not a happy one either. People go about their lives carrying their miseries, licking their wounds, and trying to forget the unforgettable. But life has to go on even if evil is still lurking, menacing the babe in arms.

Set post-WWII. Germany accidentally says something that makes Italy run out on him in the middle of a thunderstorm. Germany chases after him and chaos ensues. Light angst with a happy ending. This is a songfic with lyrics from Clarity by Zedd. Cross posted from ff and ao3

Marine biologist Richard Hamilton is in Crete with his family and adolescent devisees to photograph the marine life. While there, one of the devisees learns of the connection between Knossos and Atlantis and so goes seeking for the Island of Atlas.

Caspian was dealing with the pieces of a broken, scratched mind, filled with the scattered fragments of unreal, yet raw and genuine memories that ought to be his own. There were flashes of screams and blood and clashing iron blistering under the unyielding sun. There were flashes of rivers taking the shape of gigantic men and engulfing everything under their path. There were flashes of his voice, not quivering and insecure as now, thundering in halls as tall as cathedrals -where high people left and right would kneel before him, ask his wisdom, his command, his forgiveness, his justice. There were flashes of his own reflection on the mirror, of his body in a bright armour, a sword nested in his hands as if it had been born there -with him. It seemed unreliable. It seemed as if it was hiding the truth right under his nose by covering it in a thick layer of cruel fantasy. OR: Caspian adapting to 1946 London for he cannot go back to Narnia... nor does he wish to -he might or not have done this to himself

Melinda, List and Mary. One is a private investigator with a long, tangled history and an unnerving talent for exorcisms, another is her young partner, struggling to find his feet, and the other is her secretary, an ex-waitress who isn't all she seems. Vignettes and short stories featuring dreamwalking, demons, and Melinda's tangled past.

This is just a short story that I wrote in 999 words, as my English teacher challenged me to write one in less than 1000 words. This story is rushed and messed up, but hopefully you'll enjoy it.