Microfiction
A Night as Black as Diamonds.
“Don’t patronize me.” Clickbait glared at Snapshot. “All I said was we make a pretty good team.” Snapshot held his hands up innocently. Clickbait rolled his eyes. He was trying to focus on the wires in the breaker box. Clickbait was a master of technology. “Pop goes the weasel.” Clickbait sang as he finished hacking the system. The lights were out and the defenses were disabled. “Okay we have twenty minutes to get in and get out before their systems come back online.” Clickbait explained to Snapshot . Snapshot nodded. He was the master of stealth. He slipped through the vent and into the corridor. Clickbait sent him a digital map. Two lefts and a right. Third door on the right. Clickbait had the door unlocked by the time Snapshot came to it. Inside was a vault. Snapshot listened as the gears clicked. Inside the vault was the rare black diamond. It was the size of a golf ball. Big Bucks would pay them handsomely. Snapshot grabbed it without thinking. The alarms went off. Snapshot tried the door but the system locked it. The vent was his only escape. He found Clickbait and together they hightailed it out of there.
By Meela Ward3 years ago in Fiction
Forgotten?
Ancient history can be a bit boring. Not in my line of work. I am a descendent of a great royal bloodline. Of course this would mean nothing in modern times because our kingdom was forgotten. We lived in the Amazon rainforest. When modern society weaved its way through our culture, we became extinct. Now it is up to me to retrieve all that was stolen. Our most prized heirloom. The Jaguar Fang. Somehow it made its way to a history museum in New York City. The vents were musty and gross as I climbed through them. I opened the grate that was just inside the case. I looked down. The guards wouldn’t stroll by here for another fifteen minutes. I had to act fast. I connected a wire to the vent grate and again to my belt. I climbed down silently. The Jaguar Fang shone dimly. I was about to grab it when I caught a glimpse of the history behind the stand. The paragraphs covered almost everything I had learned. Suddenly I heard whistling. I climbed back up into the vent, and screwed the metal plate back over the wires. Maybe our people weren’t completely forgotten after all.
By Meela Ward3 years ago in Fiction
The Silver Box
Max open the door to Mother’s room. He began to search. He knew it was there somewhere. He didn’t have much time. He couldn’t afford to be caught. He searched drawers and shelves. There was no sign of it. His two little sisters were depending on him. He checked in the bedside table. Nothing. His mind was full of anxiety. Maybe it was in the closet. He tiptoed over to the closet doors and opened them. Only clothes. He left the doors open. He began to double check the drawers again when he heard real footsteps. Panic raced his heart. He frantically dove under the bed. When he did so he happened to catch a glimpse of something silver. In the closet was the silver box. He found it. The footsteps grew louder. He scurried across the floor and grabbed the box. He closed the closet doors . His mother came in and went to her dresser. He saw this as his chance. While her back was turned, he ran out of the room as silently as he could. He rushed into his room where his sisters were waiting. He opened the box. All of the leftover Easter candy shimmered.
By Meela Ward3 years ago in Fiction
In the Woods
My friend Lily and I peeked through the fence. On the other side was a hunter cabin. A great blue tick hound sat tied to a doghouse. I could see his ribs. The hunter had no use for a hound anymore. The poor thing. We put our plan into action. The hunter was asleep on the porch. I could hear the thump of the hounds tail as we approached. I unfastened the clasp of his collar. The hunter stirred. The dog wanted to play so I took off running towards the treehouse. The hound followed. He licked my hand, and went to the food. Where was Lily? Panic clouded my mind. She was stuck in the fence. The hunter was going to wake up soon. I grabbed her arms and pulled. We both fell backwards and crashed into a pile of metal scraps. “Come back you thieves!” The hunter screamed. We made it to the treehouse and locked the door. A dim lantern light could be seen through the windows. The hound was silent behind us. The light faded. I opened the door. The hunter stood at the bottom of the stairs. I knew then we were in big trouble.
By Meela Ward3 years ago in Fiction
