2018 First Lines Contest
Mira, after she had carried her daughter into her bed, undressed her, put her pajamas on then tucked her in, sat at the edge of her bed and watched her for a few seconds longer, thinking, My darling, you have proven yourself today. You are as strong as I thought you would be. I’m so proud of you. Well done.
Once upon a far away hillside, in the shade of the forest oak trees, lived a whole community of white tailed rabbits. Life was good, life was happy. The baby bunnies hopped, skipped and played all day long on the grassy hillside and, when they were tired, slept in the shade of the great oak trees branches.
The swamp fairy hovered, her delicate wings fanning the air, making soft swooshing noises. She waited for the amber-haired girl to approach. A mixture of the scents of lavender, patchouli, and sandalwood, wafted through the glade.
Category: Fiction /
- Children's Books
- Coming of Age
- Family Life
- Young Adult
Author: M J Mallon
Most people would call our existence strange, but this is more than that, this deserves a headline. We’re not spectacular enough to feature on the national or international news, but we warranted a column in the local newspaper headed by seven not so lucky words: Missing Father Returns After Weird Aging Phenomenon. I’m glad that our short-lived fame died and the paparazzi, (what a joke,) got bored with us.
Before He created the universe, God was present. Alone and bored in Heaven, He decided to create angels––celestial beings to serve as companions. When God formed them, He made them perfect. He then endowed them with free will so they might choose their own way, making them somewhat unpredictable––and more interesting.
This could be the beginning, a way to satisfy his urges. His senses were tingling with the sight, smell, and feel of blood. The silky texture of it and its coppery smell and even the intoxicating taste of it. Just the smell alone could cause desire to rush through his body triggering a compelling urge to kill. He felt a thrill at the prospect of taking a life.
"He had never killed anyone before, never seen a man die a violent death before, but he knew from deep within his innermost regions that he was about to experience the latter and quite possibly both. That is, of course, unless a sharpshooting Federal soldier from somewhere across the field beat him to it." "'Dear Lord,” he said softly, 'if my prayer from last night is just now reaching you—the one about allowing me to fight bravely and, if necessary, to die honorably—then kindly allow me to make the exact same request again, but this time with a bit more urgency.'"
“Stand by, captain,” Jake Paulson, the Salvage-4’s pilot reported, “We’re coming up on our target now.” “Well it’s about damn time,” Captain Jamison answered, through his headset. Gus Jamison was an ex-marine and overall nice guy, but a hard ass. He needed to be in this line of work; space was a dangerous and hostile environment where mistakes were not forgiven. Everyone knew Gus would bust your chops if you didn’t have the hustle on.
A shrill scream pierced the otherwise still calm of the night. The young Afghan boy, wounds still bandaged, awoke from the nightmare and began sobbing. A woman rushed to his side, sat on the floor next to the padded mat he laid on, and cradled his head in her arms.
The moonlight shone down silver on a small, sleepy town on the outskirts of Colorado. I arrived just as the humans of the town were settling down, which meant that night-walkers, creatures like me, were out and about. Almost six foot of pure, sexy half-elf form, my slick boots and lithe figure slipped through the little town unnoticed
The Fall Feather Fair was just around the corner. Janoose the Goose was busy at the feather factory working to get enough feather pillows made for Mr. Rooster, the Feather Factory owner, to give away to the Fair goers. “We have almost all the pillows made. Maybe we just need one or two more loads of feathers and we are done,” Janoose told her co-workers Mallard the Duck and Margie the Hen who were stuffing pillows as Janoose poured feathers into the hopper.
“This is the third time you’ve thrown us out of the City!” The tall, lanky man with dark and stringy red hair, stood alongside two other men while several of Danthamore’s guards forced them away from the front of the gates. “Take your messages and displays elsewhere, If you don’t, you might find yourself swinging from Robber’s Row by your necks.”
The ship was sailing in the unknown seas, its prow dividing the water in two equal sides, forming a path of foam on its way. The sea was motionless and black as coal. And silent, so very silent.
Yanick DcCullen, inmate 3249 of the Minerva Penitentiary, could never re- sist taking advantage of a business opportunity. So when he learned he could get his claws on some choice pharmaceutical items, he decided to take action. In pursuit of this profitable venture, Yanick had managed to convince a fellow inmate, Buddash Kyo, to sign up with him for a repair and mainte- nance detail in the prison tunnels the day after tomorrow.
Category: Fiction /
- Mystery & Detective
Author: Tom Minder
Father Jim had writer’s block. He glanced out the frosted-over window of his small office in St. Augustine’s rectory on the cold November Saturday afternoon. He’d been a priest for five years and actually liked creating sermons while in seminary. Now he would gladly just wing it from the pulpit. Most people don’t listen anyway.
The sun shone, warm and red on her eyelids. She couldn’t open them and didn’t want to. She stayed curled up, cocooned in the heavy blankets. The smell of dust and old wood filtered through as her senses switched on, one by one.
It was a shadowy and threatening wind. A ‘Black Death’ shroud enveloped me in a twirling tornado of sharp knives and steel spikes, pinning me motionless against cold ancient limestone of my beloved medieval church at the base of Monte Chimera. Hopeless and lifeless, the airs of screaming ghosts and infernal ghouls were drawn from the deepest bowels of the earth…
Will blinked and fought to stay awake as the cab rattled along the dark streets. It was years since he had been this drunk. The night of their graduation, wasn’t it? Fred, seated between Jerry and himself, was clapping his hands. Whether it was in an effort to keep warm or that it was because he was just as drunk but more intent on keeping awake, Will didn’t know.
THORN STOOD AT THE bow of his ship ‘My Hedera’ starring out into the dark night, lost in his deep thoughts. The brigantine dipped and swayed into the huge waves that rocked the sea. Dark storm clouds stretched across the skies blending into the black sea.
Category: Fiction /
- Action & Adventure
Author: Ken Donaldson
Life truly does begin through the death of another. Following the funeral after the passing of his dad’s life in the year 1939, a man seen to light amidst worldly dealing he portrayed through a hidden mask. That one he held shown in view of public eye as a devoted loving family man with shared business ethics resenting God for the loss of his one and only beloved wife for all others to see.