Other stories for this prompt

While Bach and Bethoven echoed in my ears, I slowly, stared at the monarch butterflies soaring in the fresh, thin air that surrounded me. I bit my lip, and then grabbed at them, but an unsuccessful attempt. I laughed and laughed. I doubled over, when I saw a man in a kyak capsize, and fall deep into the depths of the water. It felt calm and natural, sitting here, looking at the trees, the water and the sunset. A white butterfly, out lined with black-blue colors, flew in, beautifully flapping it's wings, and landed on my shoulder. I glanced at...

They were back again. The Crasoons. And this time she was ready. Ever since they'd laid waste to her town, reducing it to wilderness in a matter of weeks, carrying off the wreckage with their dreadful claws, she had been planning. The white noise in her headphones would drown out their hypnotizing cries. She wouldn't go on a killing spree, no matter what the benign-looking destroyers told her. She was here for one purpose, the purpose she'd been training for for a year and a half: The destruction of the Crasoons. Her red shirt would lure them. And once they...

morning. you are up and out the door.
morning. you are up and out the door.
morning. you are up and out the door.
morning. you notice something different. you are up and out the door.
morning. you notice something different. you have lost some hair during the night. you are up and out the door.
morning. you notice something different. you have lost some hair during the night. you get a little concerned. you are up and out the door.
morning. you notice something different. you have lost some hair during the night. you get a little concerned. you...

Too saccharine. Too weepy. No dice.

In the beginning she thought he was an alright gentlemen. Until he began showing little bits and pieces of himself. Now it seemed ridiculous that she could have fallen in love with this boy-man, this immature piece of bones, flesh and nothing else. She laughed to herself, almost becoming hysterical at the thought that she could have been shackled to this man, that as a Catholic, she would have wrestled with leaving him and when she eventually did, she would have to wrestle with a feeling of guilt for the rest of her life.
Which brought her to God. Funny...

I've never liked nature. I never saw the point. I've got a perfectly comfortable bed, a nice kitchen, television, the Internet, you name it. Nature has bugs, extreme temperatures, all kinds of dangers and obstacles. That's why humans built civilization - to overcome all of that. What campers and nature-lovers are saying is that our entire civilization is a terrible idea.

It all changed when I fell in love with Eve. How could I fall so hard for a nature-lover? What was I thinking? Obviously I wasn't thinking. She stepped up to me in the grocery store, commented on the...

They had forgotten to close the window flap on the tent the night before. It was early morning now, and the light had started to come in; a cool, damp air had already come in and settled into the corners.

She had been awake for about 20 minutes, annoyed by the light that irritated her even through her closed eyelids. Michael was curled up in the corner, half in his sleeping bag with one leg hanging out. His shirt was undone and had spilled open, and even now he smelled like booze. His bandage had bled through the night and...

The music in her headphones..."if you lift me up, and get me through this night, I know I'll rise tomorrow, and I'll be strong enough to try..." She stared through the mist and clouds wondering where she had gone. What had become of her life, why here, why now? Kaitlyn wanted to run away from life, love, because she really had neither. The Adirondack mountains towered over her, the chill in the North Country air was giving her bare arms a chill. Kait's brother died yesterday, 9/10/01, and today even more people, so many people died. She was glad to...

Chopin and nature. Like a French-pressed cup of coffee and Swiss chocolate.

But was it nature that inspired this feast for the eyes? How did Chopin filter out the noise to create his masterpiece? Must I do the same?

I switch to Vivaldi, an upbeat piece known for it's nature qualities. The Four Seasons. Ahh...that's perfect. I sink into the hammock, the soft southern breeze cooling my hair as I rock gently back and forth. Lulled to sleep by a dead guy...

I wake up. This is all wrong. This can't be right. I'm missing something...

The song is over,...

Elspeth closed her eyes and desperately tried to focus on the frantic noises coming from her headphones. The general static briefly gave way to a hideously drawn out scream, followed by a voice she recognised as belonging to the captain of her unit.
"Fire at will! That is an order, sergeant! They're coming in!"
The note of panic was unmistakeable.
When Elspeth finally opened her eyes, she knew why. The sky was filled with terrible, shrieking pink wings, and every piece of air seemed to want to attack her. Summoning her last reserves of strength, she desperately raised her plasma...