The LeafThe Leaf
Kristian sat cross-legged in the meadow, the hot midday sun beating down on him, the entirety of his attention focused on the large leaf held between his hands. A small ember glowed in the middle of the leaf, and his will was bent towards stopping it from spreading. So far, he had not been very successful, the leaf burnt almost to the edges.
He gave a sigh of vexation as the leaf finally burnt out, and heard the sigh echoed from the man standing next to him. He looked up at the grey-robed and grey-haired man standing next to him, shying away from the look of faint disappointment in the sky-blue eyes.
"Again, Kristian? That is the twelfth time, I believe." The old wizard rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly. "This is not a difficult lesson for someone as capable as you."
"Yes, Master," Kristian said quietly, not daring to look away but wishing he could. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry. Never be sorry," the older man said with a faint edge in his voice.
"Yes, Master. I won't fail
One Sentence Story IThe waves kept getting higher and higher and the clouds grew darker and darker and the rain fell harder and harder and still I clung to the mast of the boat spitting defiance and insults and threats and rage at the heavens and they replied with greater and greater fury and the cycle continued as the storm grew worse and worse and pummeled my craft, but she refused to sink and I taunted the heavens, and they smacked me over and over as the boat began to spin spin spin into the crushing black abyss of oblivion.
Two BulletsTwo Bullets
I'm miles behind enemy lines all by my lonesome, crawling through some field, hoping I don't run into some wild animal or an enemy patrol. Based on that, you'd think I'd have pretty big problems to worry about. For example, trying not to die horribly.
Honestly? I've got two thoughts. 'God damn it's cold' and 'I'm hungry'.
Why am I here? Whenever the enemy takes a prisoner they think might know something important, they send him over to this professional 'interrogator' they hired before the war started. The brass believes that he's far too competent at his job, so here I am, sneaking through enemy territory to put a bullet in his brain pan.
Anyway, you're probably right now starting to wonder just who I am. Staff Sergeant Allen Abbatelli, or 'Pintsize' when my friends think they're being funny. And I'm the best-damned sniper in the army, in my opinion, which is probably why I drew the short straw for this mission.
Through the blades of grass I can see the trees of