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158 responses to “Writing Group: The Forest Will Change You”

1. Woodland Wanderers: Do Cryptic Critters Travel Secretly? – Silent Balance

   April 2, 2025

   […] https://thetalefoundry.com/2019/12/16/writing-group-the-forest-will-change-you/ […]

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2. 

   Leo

   February 19, 2020

   “Blink” by Leo
   Waking down the road lokking at my qhone I noticed that no-one was around me kids and adults alike.
   I was a bit confused over it but dident think about it much until I got to the main road,no people,no cars no one in the middle of loking I saw a green light coming to me the loking around for an escape I blinked and found myself in a high way walking away froam what looked like a overgrown city I wanted to turn back and see but I felt an uneasy feling.
   I looked at my hands they are old and bruised,I loked at my qhone it was out of battery even thought it was 80 percent so I turnde and continued walking not knowing where to go then i blinked again.I was in forest on top of a hill and beside me what looked like an older version of me,he looked tired enven more broswed still caryng my backpack.He looked at me and ponted at a direction and said”follow the road it will take you home”and then he vanished into dust just like that.
   I again blinked but this time I was runing away from something. I looked back to see what was chasing me I only saw darkness folowing me and quickly
   branches came out from the ground and trying to stop me catch me I kept runining until I got to what it looked like a giant ship I stepd in an shut the door.
   I blinked again and again and again but nothing happened I hoped it was all a bad dream.As they were bashing the door I saw branches siping in I was about to exept my fate hering lowed voices from the other side but then I woke up in a cabben I opend the door I was in on a small hill i saw sunlight over the the clouds I felt compelled to follow the sun but as I got close I women came out of the ground came to me and asked my name I said “Leo” as finished saying my name I blacked out.
   Then nothing but pure dark but then a small light came to me and showd my reflection a skull I thouched my fave I felt the holes then I understood It brought me back to the side of the forest and showed me a road so I took it back home.

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3. 

   LumiKat117

   December 27, 2019

   “Welcome Home” by Lumi

   For his whole life, Sylvan had been told to never go into the forest.

   “There are horrible monsters in there that would snack from your bones and your blood, leaving the rest of your carcass to rot.” His mother would say whenever he wandered towards the treeline beside their home in the village, following this faint yearning in his core.

   At night, like a weaver, she spun tale after tale about the creatures and demons that she claimed to infest the trees themselves, waiting for unwary people to wander into their clutches like insects into a spiders web. She wanted to scare him into staying.

   It only made him want to go more. Each tale striking that longing deeper.

   One in particular struck the hardest, even after what seemed a million tellings, tugging relentlessly at his mind to seek it out.

   The Heart of the Forest. It was supposed to be what it sounded, the physical embodiment of the forest.

   The elders muttered to themselves when Sylvan finally asked for their knowledge of the Heart, but was only told that they believed it must be finally dying, and good riddance.

   When asked why they thought it was, he was told that the trees seemed to be growing thinner and sickly when compared to their youth.

   Something they rejoiced for.

   Sylvan did not rejoice.

   He knew that he couldn’t let the forest die. Why, he didn’t know. What he did know was that he needed to leave that night, he needed to find the Heart and restore it. Somehow.

   That night before bed, he asked his mother to tell him the story about the Heart once more, wanting to get some kind of hint to help. She smiled and spun her tale one last time, kissing his brow and leaving him to sleep.

   Once he was sure mother was asleep, he silently grabbed his pack and slipped out of the house, making his way to the trees. He paused at the threshold, remembering all his mother’s tales before taking a breath and stepping inside.

   As he walked further in, he felt a sense of peace wash over him.

   /Welcome Home./ (This should be italicized.)

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   1. 

      Matthew (handsome Johanson)

      December 28, 2019

      I see what you meant by struggling to keep under the word count! Lol. Not that anything was clunky or unclear, more that this is the kind of story idea that begs to be expanded upon! I kinds read this as the intro to a story about discovery, principle, and magic:0 it can be so hard to limit yourself lol.
      Tl;dr: Cool worldbuilding 🙂

      Reply
4. 

   S. D. Field

   December 26, 2019

   “The Puscha” by Simon D. Field

   Heinz was now alone, and the humidity and silence and suffocating terror of never coming out of the forest came crashing down on his shoulders with all the weight of Jesus’s cross. He’d entered these woods with a Russian auxiliary and Tede in pursuit of the bandits. The Russian vanished one night, and Tede still was somewhere behind, crushed and pinned by a collapsed arch of ancient trees, unburied, left to rot. The owl whose hoots haunted his little troop still followed him, and he kept recalling and desperately dismissing Tede’s last words of doom and repentance and inability to reach the sanctuary. When he made his way through thorny shrubbery, a blackbird perched nearby and looked at him intently, appraisingly. He shooed it off, but the conscious intent in the beady eyes of a bird added more weight to the millstone of fear around his neck. He went on, because the alternative was even scarier to him.

   The man had eventually lost track of time and no longer questioned why did he go forth. It was simple: he had to because he was doing it each day. It was a ritual, perhaps, and one worth observing. He was now free of terror and longing for company, although now he longed for food. He ate tree moss and chewed it when walking or resting, and it offered little nourishment. Once he contemplated giving up, but not anymore. Once he rejected that notion out of pride and hope of getting out, then to spite the forest, to show that he came to own this land, that he wouldn’t change, but not anymore. It was the ritual, and it was to be observed.

   One day he finally heard something from the days long ago. A human voice.

   “Come, Petya,” it said. “Daddy needs his lunch out in the field.”

   He recalled a peculiar notion he once heard.

   The weak are meat; the strong eat.

   And he remembered he was of the superior breed, the strongest one.

   He clutched the bayonet in his hand.

   He inched closer to the clearing.

   Then he pounced.

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   1. 

      S. D. Field

      December 26, 2019

      I feel oblidged to provide some context in case the symbolism is a bit obscure. I shall be as brief as possible so as to avoid undue spoilers.

      1. The puscha (пуща) is a common word in east slavic languages for a very thick and vast forest, especially an old-growth one.
      2. The arch is also an element of church architecture and a symbol borrowed from Rome.
      3. The blackbird comes from the life of saint Benedict. The Dialogues of saint Gregory the Pope will provide you with more clues.

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5. 

   Joseph myles

   December 23, 2019

   ‘Missing’ by aerondight
   There’s a forest at the north of town, it’s deep dark place, such a place you only hear of in fairy tales, one not even the greatest hunters dare venture into. It’s said the dense leaves of the trees rendered everythin a a sour murk. It’s said that no creature enters the forest, it is said that not even a birdsong can be heard in it’s foul guts. Much is said about the forest though nobody truly knows what’s within, those dumb enough or brave enough to enter soon realize their mistake, painfully.

   And this is the place I now find myself in. I don’t know how I ended up here, it was sudden, I was walking home from the my work in the north of town when I heard it, a scream, unlike any I heard, it sounded like a small child’s but twisted, as if the trees of the forest bent the sound into something as unsettling as they are. I had to enter, what was I meant to do? It was the only option. I shouldn’t have went it, I realize now, I should of left the screams to themselves.

   I followed the screams, but they always seemed distance, then I realized, it was luring me in. Deep into its wretched core. though it was evening nothing could be seen within, moss covered everything like a blanket of filth, The only sound, thecrumple of it beneath my boot. I tried retracing my steps but it all looked the same, as if the same rocks trees and roots repeated themselves.

   I stumbled around for what felt like days in the dark. Listening for any sound other then the moss, that’s when I found it. A a massive tree in the middle, a tree that looked more like a scab on the earth then anything else. It seemed ancient as if it was a remnant of something from before time, I placed my hands upon the the tree to hear a heart beat, it was the beating heart of the forest, the forest was alive.

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6. 

   Jazper

   December 21, 2019

   The Forest
   Everything is silent, i never liked the silence, but at this point it doesn’t mater. It said that as long as you walk in one direction you can not get lost in the woods, I have proven this time and time again, you’ll go back and nothing will change. Still I come here time and time again, one day I’ll get lost for good, If I don’t have to go back I’ll learn to love the silence, she will be the only friend I didn’t left behind. My feet can’t hold me any longer, I drop to the cold ground, such a familiar feeling, a chilling embrace, the end of my journey is near. But I squint as the blinding white light burns, I have been found again. as Im guided back to civilization I still feel the cold clasp of the dirt, the forest changes you all right and soon I’ll be back for my next journey.

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7. 

   Jen Armitage

   December 20, 2019

   “Sackman” by Spewnybard

   I was afraid of Christmas. While other children spoke gleefully about Santa bringing them presents while they slept, I knew the truth about that fat man all wrapped up in red. Your parents leave you gifts, I would always try to tell them, then they bar the door and lock the windows– so the Bubak won’t get in. He lives deeps in the shadowy woods, waiting until the snow lies deep upon the town, and uses it to sneak across the roads and empty grounds. My brother told me, he used to be a normal man, until the trees took his pieces and then made him find them again. He doesn’t quite look like one of us anymore, just sacks and dark and fear. But, you’ll know when he’s coming, when the wail of a baby’s crying draws near. I’m not afraid of the Sackman though. What? You say you are? When the snow covers the roads and pines, just stay inside instead.

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8. 

   Michael Cain

   December 20, 2019

   “Piece by Piece“
   By Michael Cain

   My lungs burn. I’d been trying to claw my way clear of this endless forest for hours. First I ran, then I puked on the bramble choked ground, and now I stumble and fall into tree after tree, bleeding more and more with each misstep.

   I scream for help, but soon my voice gives out. I know I’m stronger than this. I know I should be hiking these woods easily. But something is pulling the strength right out of me. I look down at my bloodied arm and my skin is dark and rough… it… it’s turning to bark.

   I panic, changing coarse, heedlessly pushing forward too fast. It’s all a bad dream, right? I fall hard, crying for help that never comes, and end up crawling toward a patch of cold sunlight anchored to the forest floor.

   Once there I lay in the light and breath deep. My mouth will not open. My hands will not close. With every drop of strength I have, I push myself to stand. Dizzy, I breath easier as I gain my full height. But my feet are not feet, my arms are no longer arms, and the stillness that envelops me extinguishes my panic, smothers my fear.

   I stand sentinel in the sunlight, rooted to the spot, my arms stretched to the heavens, my mind cool and calm and bright. I am one, but I am also many, my new kin shiver around me as they know they have a new piece in the whole. Piece by piece we are whole. Piece by piece we are one.

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9. 

   S. P.

   December 19, 2019

   Hyacinth’s Hyacinths
   by S. Pardue

   Mr. Morrow hadn’t left his house in days. He barely left his living room, excluding trips to the kitchen and restroom. But never their bedroom. The thought of it without her was too much.

   Instead, he slept on his couch during the night, and by day, he’d still be squatting there in silence, unmoving. The front garden was left unattended, drying and dying, and the house unclean.

   He barely answered his cellphone. The funeral planners, family, loved ones. It always rang. Too much.

   On his fifth day of silent grieving, after preparing himself a soggy luncheon, Mr. Morrow heard a tapping, then scurrying of someone outside his front door. The disheveled man opened it to see a delivery person had come and left a sack of what seemed to be 50 flower bulbs. On it was a purple note, “I’m so sorry. We’re all grieving. Hoping this can help. Your loving sister-in-law, Lily.”

   Mr. Morrow was puzzled but sincerely delighted by the gift. After all, he desperately needed a distraction. Once he’d read the instructions, he filled a glass jar with water, placed a single bulb on top, and he waited for something to happen. Nothing did.

   The weeks passed onward. The funeral had come and gone, and the brown seed hadn’t flowered.

   Perhaps he wasn’t cut out for raising plants.

   But then on one bright Sunday morning, Mr. Morrow found himself alone in his kitchen, and he saw tiny blue blossoms emerge from the bulb. And he felt tears trickling down his pores.

   The next day, he went out to buy soil, shovels, and lots of pots for the remaining 49.

   Once he was out of them, he bought 50 more. Then, another 50.

   He didn’t keep them all. On occasion, he’d gift them out to others as a reminder of the light that life has to offer. The rest he planted day by day in his front garden until they bloomed a beautiful orchard, Hyacinth’s Hyacinths, in memory of a woman taken too early.

   And soon, Mr. Morrow found the courage to sleep in his bed again, with his first floret resting on the window sill.

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   1. 

      S. P.

      December 19, 2019

      I recognize that the prompt is The Forest Will Change You, and here I am writing a story about a guy who grows hyacinths. There is no literal forest in this story, and perhaps that goes against the prompt. But though forests can be big, mythical, and beyond our control, I think there are the smaller types of forests that we as humans can build or destroy. That’s what I wanted to hone in on for this piece.
      I originally wanted to go with something more fantastical, along the lines of a person gardens a grove, but the plants become anthropomorphic and attack them. But I didn’t get very far in that story, but then the idea turned into this piece of more realistic fiction. I like to write about death and the grieving process, specifically regarding how we can move on in this world without the ones we’ve lost. I also have a fascination with growing hyacinths, and I liked the idea of growing a “forest” of flowers.
      It’s not a perfect story. It could use some work, and perhaps it doesn’t fit the prompt. Still, I wanted people to see it cause I spent a lot of time on it.

      Reply
      1. 

         Riley Tippin

         December 20, 2019

         So I would say this doesn’t fit the theme of a forest, as it feels rather specific that it must be one of them big-tree-swaying-in-the-wind kind of forests. That’s fine though, as you’ve crafted an excellent work of art. And, just as a side note, you might want to check out some Greek myths that involve flowers…there are tons of them:

         https://www.theoi.com/Flora1.html

         Most of the best ones are from Ovid’s Metamorphoses, but the website above has every flower myth ever for the wildest of hearts (my favorite is Hyacinth, by the way…well, that and the cypress tree one)

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   2. 

      R J Chapman

      December 20, 2019

      I enjoyed this SP. It’s a lovely a story. It reminds me of a story my Grandpa told me about a friend of his that lost his wife and he slept on the sofa every night for a year, unable to sleep in their bed without her. It also kind of reminded me of reading Esio Trot when I was a kid. I think in a longer format expanding on the fantastical elements of the flowers’ growth, with an injection of humour just to take the edge off the sorrowful beginning and slightly saccharine ending, it could be a great story.

      I’m not sure if it hits the brief/prompt but wanted to let you know I enjoyed it.

      Reply
   3. 

      Riley Tippin

      December 20, 2019

      I agree with R J in that I found this flash piece highly enjoyable and–dare I say in my French, uppity accent–literature. The Hyacinth part, however, is what makes this story so elaborate and amazing. I’m not sure if you intended it (you should just always answer: YES, YES I DID INTEND THAT), but the Greek mythos behind Hyacinth as a person gives the tone of this tale an interesting one. Hyacinth is a man, yes, and a homoerotic lover of the god Apollo, god of radiance and brightness; of poetry and love; of music and dance, but I can see or imagine that this story takes the roles of male lovers, makes it heterosexual, and plays upon symbolism to create a harking back to the mythos. By this I mean that Mr. Morrow would be Apollo (still male, though Apollo is portrayed with both feminine and masculine qualities) and Hyacinth would be a female version of Hyacinth. By placing the flowers as the element of transition here, them being the hyacinth, there is an invoking of femininity cared for delicately by a man, symbol of masculinity. And I know this is rambling, so I’ll cut it short there…but I think you get the gist! Bravo!

      Reply
10. 

    D.W. Fitzgerald

    December 19, 2019

    “The New Way” by D.W. Fitzgerald

    It had been some months since Brag’o the Horned God spoke to the Skinchanger in a whisper, directing her and her small coven deep into the Godspine at the edge of the world. Long enough now that the Old Way was forgotten and replaced with a New Way– the Way of the Godspine.

    Wild braying ripped through the night air, intermittently punctuated by booming drums and stomach-turning wet squelches. It was to be expected, The Godspine was well known to harbor marauding tribes of vicious beastkin. All the better, the Skinchanger thought to herself, they had divested all the spoils of their prior hunts trading with the warlords of Volargrad, and their repaired and upgraded arms thirsted for the blood of new, worthy prey. Kurgo motioned silently to her pack, fire in her eyes at the prospect of the hunt to come. She turned and climbed into the rocky, wooded cliffs surrounding the hunting party, melding into the shadows in the crags: the paradigm of perfect predation.

    The Skinchanger let out a guttural syllable, cracking her barbed whip into the air. Kertu, as faithful and tame as a Godspine Prowler could be considered, let out a low grumble and bowed, the bulging muscle of the beast’s broad shoulders corded and rippling under its heavily scarred skin. Leaping up the cliffside, Kertu assumed its position with murderous grace and waited, a silent sentinel barely visible against the blackened, twisted sky.

    More maddening than the incessant braying was the foul smell, a lingering miasma of sweat and animal manure that heralded the arrival of the Beastkin. Lightning fast, Kertu bounded from its perch, spotting its target. The dim-witted goatman barely had time to grab its crude hunting horn before its throat was torn asunder. Just as fast as it appeared, Kertu disappeared back up the cliffside. In the sudden chaos that erupted, the predators moved as one from their hiding spots and began taking their prey.

    Holding a haunch of bloodied beastkin flesh aloft, the Skinchanger shouted over the ceremonial chanting of her pack,

    “Feast on the flesh! Hail the New Way!”

    Reply
    1. 

       R J Chapman

       December 19, 2019

       This really does read like mythology that has been passed down through the oral tradition and is clearly incredibly well thought out and intricate. You also write action well full of anticipation and energy. If I’m honest, I think it’s perhaps a little too ambitious for a 350 word limit. There are a few too many proper nouns for me (Brag’o, Skinchanger, Godspine, Volargrad, Kurgo, Kertu, Godspine Prowler, Beastkin), without any prior knowledge of the mythos it is information overload and the perspective suffers as a result. I genuinely would love to read a 2000-3000 word version of this where you can let it breathe and drip-feed the reader the information. The style, the imagination, the plot are all great though.

       Reply
    2. 

       Philip C.

       December 20, 2019

       What?! I look away for a few hours and this one just pops up with 16 vote ups, and everyone else has been voted down by one. This was up for a bit with only a couple vote ups, but then this. How!??

       Reply
       1. 

          Jonas

          December 20, 2019

          I suspect someone is taking this fun little activity way too seriously. If you treat this as a popularity contest, you’ve kind of missed the point.

          Reply
          1. 

             Philip C.

             December 20, 2019

             I’m sorry if I came across like that. I only meant to express my shock. I saw what had happened and I just couldn’t help expressing my confusion as to what had happened. I was kind of asking for an answer as well. I hadn’t seen anything like it before. Perhaps I am wrong, and this happens more often, but from my observations usually things just go up by a few votes over the week, and never down, unless someone mis-clicked in some way. Nothing like what happened here.

             Reply
             1. 

                Jonas

                December 20, 2019

                Nah, apologies are due on my part. I meant ‘you’ in a general sense, not you specifically. I echo your sentiment.

                Reply
          2. 

             D.W. Fitzgerald

             December 20, 2019

             “Submissions are randomly selected from among the top ten most-liked of each post, so be sure to share your submissions on social media and with your friends!”

             I followed the instructions of the post and shared my submission on Facebook. I agree that it was mean-spirited and against the spirit of the workshop for somebody to downvote every entry but I don’t really have control over the actions of those I shared the link with.

             Reply
             1. 

                R J Chapman

                December 20, 2019

                I’m not going to defend anyone voting down others cynically because it’s a pretty crappy thing to do. But why is there even an option to vote stories down? It’s supposed to be an inclusive and constructive place place for amateur writers to challenge themselves, discuss and help each other. The dislike button just breeds anomosity. If you don’t like a story, grow some balls and leave a constructive review. And if you don’t think there’s anything constructive to say, don’t comment. I think the mods should remove the dislike button and replace it with a report button instead. It would prevent people abusing what is essentially an honour system.

                Reply
             2. 

                Jonas

                December 20, 2019

                Fair enough. I agree with RJ Chapman though; comments are usually more helpful than votes, and downvotes can be especially counterproductive.

                Reply
11. 

    Riley Tippin

    December 19, 2019

    The Yellow Wood Whose Path is but One

    “And to the forest edge you came one day…and looked and pondered long, but did not enter, though the wish was strong.”
    –Robert Frost

    I had entered into the woods and found myself turned around. Where I had come from was loud and busy; shrieking, the way back was, and yet I found myself drawn inward still. In neglect, I had suffered much from the darkened soul within my chest, the one that didn’t beat anymore though I was not dead.

    Onto the boughs on either side of me my hands rested, gripping the feigning leaves that withdrew from my hot touch. And leaning against the black sap that leaked from the top of the trees, where, like a jungle canopy, the cold and ominous pines swayed violently, I thought of the pristine image printed onto my cortex with vibrant color.

    These trees bled for us, but now that my body had submerged into their watery depths, my skin and my bones; the organs that began to fade in their life, were being sucked away from the edge where I could see you standing, looking in for any sign that I might still be there. The deafening roar of the creaking trunks droned you out and so I could not hear what it was you said—your voice traveled the opposite direction of me. Sadly, you could not hear me either.

    And then you left, and I turned my head to see what horrors I had gotten myself in. But I was not shocked, surprised, or horrified at what I beheld, for there was luminescence like Spring when Spring is meant to arrive. Truly, all I could see was snow and not a single track left from animals harvesting what little could be found, but Springtime in its essence was about me, and the trunks, the boughs, and everything that I saw upon turning my head, was enough to tell me that vicissitude is only so until it isn’t.

    Reply
    1. 

       R J Chapman

       December 19, 2019

       Loved the imagery in this. The trees that ‘bled’ imply sacrifice yet being ‘submerged into their watery depths’ suggests a baptism of sorts. Is it a metaphorical curing of the ‘darkened soul?’ And is the soul simply Winter (or the forest in Winter), not quite dead but very nearly so, and it is waiting for the arrival of Spring to revive it?

       There’s a lot to digest here. There’s definitely an element of paganism I think. The transformation/change also seems to be literal – being absorbed by the forest. I also get the idea that while change is cyclical each time it feels new and permanent.

       They’re my initial thoughts anyway! Great job!

       Reply
       1. 

          Riley Tippin

          December 19, 2019

          This is why I love literature! My intents were much more boring albeit:( My intent was mostly to take Robert Frost’s idea of spooky and depressing winter scenery (which has its own beauty) and talk about how change is only scary until it isn’t scary anymore. Getting away from what was once comfortable (the girl here) and then thinking that what is ahead of you (which seems like it’s behind, thus invoking the fright that we’d see from Lovecraft or Asian horror–the unknown) is unwanted…but we don’t even KNOW what is there until we see it, and most often times, even if snowy and desolate, it can be gorgeous, it just took the courage to see it.

          Reply
          1. 

             R J Chapman

             December 19, 2019

             I know, Roland Barthes was on to something! It’s amazing how your own intentions can be interpreted very differently by a reader. This is why reading is the most immersive entertainment because it is such an individual experience and the discussion is half of the fun!

             I really see the idea that change is only scary until it isn’t now though. We fear change because of the unknown but once the change has happened, it’s just life.

             Reply
12. 

    Mindy Garza

    December 19, 2019

    “Peace of Mind” By Mindy Garza

    A brilliant pink orange pulled the clouds towards the horizon. Leaves crackled under her stomping boots as she contemplated whether she had enough time for a quick walk among the trees before heading to work. She needed a break from the stress if only for a few minutes. With a sigh of frustration she stomped out her cigarette before she could change her mind. The atmosphere was peaceful and deceptive.

    No weight on her shoulders for once, but it was getting colder. She should’ve turned around. Her sweater got caught in a mangled branch. How trivial. This was no issue, she had another at home. She shrugged it off without another thought.

    Her head was lighter now too. She spun around and walked a few more feet only to trip on some roots, falling face first into the dirt. Not feeling any aches or scratches she turned over gently. That’s when she noticed a snake near her knee. She loves snakes. She knew better than to panic. She eased off her boots and slinked away without so much as a backwards glance.

    There were still some candy colors swirling around and a lovely breeze urged her to pull her gloves off. It flowed through her fingers without resistance. She tried to grasp it as she floated away.

    Her mind and body couldn’t process when she left the forest a day later. An immediate weight threatened to cave in her chest. Gravity tore at her bare skin slamming her to the rough ground. Her breath became brittle and her bones screamed. Mind once blank became all at once too loud and violent as fire engulfed the clouds. Pink melted away from her irises. She clawed at the leaves and dragged herself back- feral and desperate to be reclaimed by the forest.

    Reply
    1. 

       R J Chapman

       December 19, 2019

       I know it’s a really simple but really liked your use of sound – ‘brittle’, ‘dragged’, ‘scratched’, ‘shrugged’, ‘grasp’ – those words that are not quite onomatopoeic but full of those harsher sounding consonants really makes the imagery more vivid.

       As for the story itself, I really enjoyed it. The disconnect between the human mind and nature is that we’ll never truly understand it because we have defied it. The only way to really become part of it is to return to a more wild and feral state of being. Thought there was echoes with Eve here, with the snake almost returning her to the garden, humankind needing to return to pre-conscious state in order to be accepted back into it.

       Reply
13. 

    R J Chapman

    December 18, 2019

    “Chrysalis” by R J Chapman

    He knelt in the undergrowth, waiting for the latest bout of nausea to pass. Slowing his breathing, he tried to ignore the rising convulsions shuddering through his abdomen. His attempts were in vain.

    Later, he woke amongst the ferns and moss, for a moment feeling almost comfortable. The sun peered through the sentinels of beech and oak, resurrecting the dead forest floor with memories of life. From a nearby plant a chrysalis swayed delicately, dancing in the breeze.

    The compression in his skull quickly shattered that serenity. With both hands he desperately clawed at his head, as if he could pry it open in an attempt to release the pressure. Upon lowering his hands, he discovered each contained a fistful of hair, and he began to whimper. Cleansing tears refused to come, his body denying him any to waste on self-pity.

    Lacking neither the strength nor the resolve to get up, he consigned his body to the forest and cursed the Earth. His body would rot, nothing more than yet another effigy in this mausoleum of a world. He barely felt the prick of the needle as it pierced the first vein he could find.

    As he waited for the morphine to take effect, he stared once more at the chrysalis and an overwhelming urge to crush it surged through him. He reached for it…

    The streaming beams of light suddenly glowed brighter through the canopy. Shielding his eyes, he squinted at swarms of sparks glittering in the sunlight to the rhythm of a mystery melody. Then he began to hear it. The song swooped and chirped and bounced from to tree to tree in a chorus of defiance. The chrysalis opened; a perfectly formed butterfly emerged, stretching its black and orange wings for the first time. It seemed to look at him just for a moment, almost in recognition, before fluttering in and out of the sunbeams until eventually it drifted out of sight altogether.

    Smiling, his heavy eyes began to succumb to his exhaustion. Ghosts of play and laughter echoed through the forest as he peacefully slipped away.

    Reply
    1. 

       Riley Tippin

       December 19, 2019

       I love that the journey here is not one of a physical sense, not even one of a metaphorical sense, truly, but of a literal sense–though psychological. I love it, as it bridges that gap from what feels sensational and surreal within a morphine world, and matches it to the feeling we might’ve had whilst being read fables or telling them to others; in a time when mythology still gripped us and science had yet destroyed the romanticism of God or gods and goddesses.

       Reply
       1. 

          R J Chapman

          December 19, 2019

          Thanks for the feedback Riley!

          I wanted to create something that celebrated nature and questioned mankind’s insular and destructive view of it, while hopefully still empathising with him. I intended his epiphany to have an impact but also vague enough to let the reader decide whether it is simply just a sensory explosion brought on by the morphine overdose or whether it is some sort of magical rebirthing of the world he is witnessing. My original plan was to have him wake up cured and walk towards the voices but (A) I thought that was probably a step too far and (B) ran of out of words!

          Anyway, I really appreciate your thoughts and glad you enjoyed it!

          Reply
    2. 

       Jonas

       December 19, 2019

       Haunting and beautiful. You have a really confident style that effectively conveys the physical and emotional aspects of overdosing without going overboard. I enjoyed the juxtaposition between death and (re)birth as well. It hits that bittersweet spot that characterises life in a vivid way. I’m trying to find flaws here, but it’s hard to pick any out, it’s one of my favourites.

       Reply
       1. 

          R J Chapman

          December 19, 2019

          Thank you Jonas! That’s more praise than I could hope for!

          I must admit I hate my use of the word ‘suddenly’. It’s cliched and I really didn’t want to use it but didn’t know how else to express that sudden transformation in the weather. I tried hiding it in the middle of the sentence. I also repeat ‘his body’ two sentences in a row, which annoys me. Plus by choosing not to name the character or giving him any defining characteristics, I had to say ‘he’ about 30 times.

          I must admit, I would have liked another 150 words to play with. However, loved the challenge of having to cut sentences I liked but ultimately added nothing to the story.

          Reply
          1. 

             Jonas

             December 20, 2019

             Yeah, I run into that issue too with words such as ‘suddenly’. That can be applied to most adverbs – they’re often an effective shortcut for getting one’s point across, but when overused it can lead to writing that feels a little bland. I didn’t notice your use of the word here, though, so it definitely doesn’t weigh down the rest of the piece. But it’s something to look out for in general.

             Reply
14. 

    Strange

    December 18, 2019

    “Somewhere Through the Trees” by Strange

    When I was young, father and I often walked in the woods together. In those days, we lived in a house with a path to the forest in the backyard. It seemed we would wander through those woods every day. Also In those days, we lived in constant pain due to family problems (nothing physical, thankfully).
    One afternoon, we decided to go for a short walk, because it was getting dark already. As we quickened our pace to head home, I noticed something through the trees.
    It was a quick flicker of light, like someone extinguishing a flame just as it was lit. I took one step in the direction of the flicker and then a man appeared in front of me. The man and I were the same height and he seemed a bit hesitant to talk. We stared at each other for a moment until I finally asked, “Who are you?”
    “Can’t tell you that,” he began, “but what I can tell you is that you don’t want to go this way.”
    “Why?” I asked the strange man.
    “Because, this way is for kids who give up. You don’t look like that kind of kid” replied the man.
    “What do you mean give up?” I probed further.
    “You’ll find out when your older” he said dismissively. “Look kid, whatever is happening at home must be pretty bad if you saw a wisp, but it gets better. Everything changes and you’ve got to keep hope that it’ll be for the better, alright?” he said attempting to inspire me. I nodded. He smirked a bit and said “Great, and next time you see the wisp I’m not going to stop you, so be careful and stay hopeful!”
    When I blinked, he was gone.
    Looking around, I saw Father looking at me back and ask “Something wrong?”
    After pausing to think, I shook my head and caught up with him and went home.
    I kept that encounter in mind as I grew and because of it life got better.

    Reply
15. 

    Cain (DarkBlur2005)

    December 18, 2019

    ~~~Forest of Shadows, by Cain (DarkBlur2005)~~

    Blackened stains traveled across the walls around him, as the shadows roamed the Library he managed.

    When Frank started working at the library, titled “The Forest of Books” upon its opening, he was simply an assistant, working there as a part time job to get money whilst he was studying at his school.

    But after working at the Library for a while, the teenager felt attached to the place. The building itself was old, and there was an air of mystery surrounding the old location that just drew Frank in.

    So, after leaving high school, he applied for a full time job at the library, and the old librarian, always tired and stressed, accepted.

    Frank worked hard, and was appreciated by his superior. After many years, however, Frank noticed something odd.

    The library always closed before dark, and the Librarian always stayed behind, seemingly all night, which Frank saw after realising how early the Librarian was at the library. Almost as if he never left the building.

    Not long after Frank noticed this, he also saw that the Librarian was less tired and stressed, and appeared in a state of euphoria. Like all his worries washed away overnight.

    Frank didn’t know what had happened, and wouldn’t for a long time, as the librarian died in his sleep a few days later. Officially, he died of natural causes, but Frank always felt something was off about it.

    He was right.

    Years passed, and Frank became the new Librarian. He immediately noticed what stressed out his predecessor before his passing.

    The Shadows, when the day reached night, writhed along the walls, alive and frightening to the new librarian. He became obsessed, barely sleeping as he tried to research what these incomprehensible forms could be.

    He researched plenty into his old age, until he realised that the true nature of these creatures was impossible to be known by a human brain. After that, he simply sat in the shadows, appreciating the company the shadows gave him at night.

    Until he too, died as the librarian did before him. Died in his Forest of Shadows.

    Reply
    1. 

       Lord_Gatte

       December 18, 2019

       Such an interesting take! This is something I wasn’t expecting within the first few paragraphs. Neat twist!

       Reply
       1. 

          Cain (DarkBlur2005)

          December 18, 2019

          Thanks!

          Reply
    2. 

       MasaCur

       December 18, 2019

       Interesting take on the “forest” aspect of the writing prompt. Good effort.
       Little quibble: I did notice that the word “old” gets used three times within the space of two paragraphs near the beginning of the story. It’s not immediately noticeable, but I did catch this on my second read-through.
       Still, very enjoyable.

       Reply
       1. 

          Cain (DarkBlur2005)

          December 20, 2019

          Thanks for the feedback!

          Reply
    3. 

       R J Chapman

       December 18, 2019

       I liked your interpretation of the brief (I’m a sucker for anything set in Library). The idea that something is alive, moving through it, not necessarily malevolent but certainly powerful is a great concept. I would have liked a little more on the shadows and Frank and developing that and spent less on the old librarian though (e.g. I think you could have just used his death as one sentence rumour). I do think the opening and ending are really strong though.

       Reply
       1. 

          Cain (DarkBlur2005)

          December 20, 2019

          Thanks! I personally wanted to do more on those aspects of the story, but due to the word limit, I kept it to what it is now, save me further grief when I’d have to inevitable cut down a significant portion of the story to make it 350 words.

          Reply
16. 

    C.J

    December 18, 2019

    “For the Lonely” by C.J.

    The forest will change you.

    For those who cling to the human world and the normality they’ve fabricated, they will become lost and alone, perhaps even hopeless. Desperate for the comfort that fellow humans bring, they will return to the un-dappled light without fail.

    For the ones rejected by humanity and burned by its true nature, the forest offers another way. In the bosom of fae and folklore, far from humanity’s prying yet cowardly eyes, they find their freedom.

    What is that freedom? That answer is reserved for the lonely.

    Do you know it?

    Reply
    1. 

       Riley Tippin

       December 19, 2019

       There’s a double entendre inherent in “lonely” that makes my mind swirl in delight. I’m not sure I agree with the message, but, oddly enough, I do agree with it. I know that sounds insane, but I say it only because you started it: “lonely” here acts as a way that leads against humanity’s present states, and in the forest, looking for the spirit in what once was and finding an answer only the lonely know, many lonely people discover a bountiful plethora or answers…perhaps, though, if the lonely find this place, they are not so different from the rest of humanity, only enjoy being different in their own way, just as the other lonely ones do…

       Reply
       1. 

          C.J.

          December 19, 2019

          <3

          Reply
17. 

    Andrew Paul Wiener

    December 18, 2019

    “Young Love”, by Drew P. Wiener

    Her hair was a gold that made the sun look pale. Her eyes were a blue so deep they made the sky seem a shallow puddle after Summer rain. Her smile was so warm it made hearth fire feel like a cool breeze. She could have anyone she desired, all the boys of the village wanted her. Even the merchant’s son, that brutish spoiled beast, was reduced to a gibbering babe around her. Still she chose me. On a blooming Spring day she came a-calling, I answered.

    Our days were warm. The world seemed brighter, aglow with a light never noticed before. We strolled down our village streets, onto the path through the old wood surrounding. We spoke of our dreams and follies, weaving them together into a patchwork all our own, a nonsense tapestry. A fine foundation for the future.

    As green Spring grew to golden Summer we spent days laughing in meadows of wildflowers, sitting with bare feet in the cool brook, listening with open hearts to the forest-song all about us. But as Summer wore on I had less and less time for her. All hands were needed in the fields. She would still wander through the woods to smile at bluebirds and sniff the flowers perfume, though I worried about her going alone. There were still beasts about.

    One dog-day, making my way back from the fields, dirty and tired, I spied my love racing into the woods, chasing a hulking shadow that faded into the trees. All fatigue leapt from my bones, my tools hit the ground with a dull thud. I charged headlong towards the tree line, and my heart sank when I did not see her on the path. I called her name but was met only with a chill wind, early and ominous. I tore through the bramble and branches with mad frenzy, only her in mind.

    What I saw in that field tainted the whole world red. She lay beneath the beast, eyes fixed on his with a look she had never shown to me.

    I left there a changed man.

    Reply
18. 

    Matthew B

    December 17, 2019

    “A Night in The Woods” – Matthew Beeson
    I’ll never forget it, that night in the woods. I’d just invited a friend over and we were planning on exploring that hiking trail we’d always talked about. I quickly found out there was a reason no one talked about it. At first, it was just small things, leaves moving with no wind, a soft whistle from down the tracks. Nothing we couldn’t write off as a bird.

    We’d been walking for about 30 minutes, the monotonous surroundings of the trees had me falling asleep and keeling over into the sandy path. Spindly, frail trees soared 10’s of meters high. The bark had turned to ash. it seemed like the lightest wind would skin the trees right there and then. Only, there was no wind, nor any wildlife. The area seemed devoid of anything other than me and my friend. Though these were observations I can only make in hindsight. After another 10 or so minutes of walking, I had finally tired of the trip. I asked my friend “Hey, should we head back?”

    There was no answer. It’s like he vanished out of thin air. I was certain he was playing some kind of prank on me, so I yelled “Well! If you’re out there, I’m be headed home!”
    Though this time I was not deprived of a response.

    “Goodbye.” A voice spoke behind me. It was a sickly sinister tone, the kind that would send shivers down the spine of even the bravest men. I spun around, searching for the voice. My eyes were fixated on what was in front of me. That’s when I noticed. Two trees that had been there prior to me turning around we no longer there. They had been legs, not trees.

    The creature appeared to have spared me that day. I was able to return home. Though ever since he has been standing at the edge of my back garden. Slowly moving closer each day. I’ll never forget that night in the woods, and neither should you. My friend always told me the forest changes you, but I never thought like this.

    Reply
    1. 

       Andrew Paul Wiener

       December 18, 2019

       I rather enjoy this one. It reminds me of one of my favorite, and criminally underappreciated, Stephen King novels, “The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon.” It has that kind of vibe to me when you describe the walk with your friend. And the end is wonderful, I like that inevitable, encroaching doom; and silly as it is, your creature makes me think of the Lumberwoods creatures, specifically the hidebehind. I do think you could have made a few more interesting word choices in regards to descriptors, but I am by no means disappointed in this story.

       One nitpicky note (feel free to ignore it): The word choice in the sentence “Spindly, frail trees soared 10’s of meters high” is just a bit off to my ears/eyes. It’s a very good, sensory sentence, but I mentally get stopped up at “10’s of meters high”. It feels… Clunky. That lone number on the page, that quantifiable “10’s of meters” acts as a speed bump to my conception of the story. Maybe try “Spindly, frail trees soared meters upon meters upwards”. Just that one numerical value throws the flow of things off to me; sorry if I’m just coming off as a troll

       Reply
    2. 

       LumiKat117

       December 27, 2019

       Very creepy, it almost makes my skin crawl with the descriptions and the knowledge that the creature may someday claim the other person that it had once spared. It makes me desperate to know what the creature is and why it spared him in the first place, does it take anyone that goes into the forest or just down that trail in particular? I would like to suggest though being a little more clear with your writing because the “keeling over” part made me think the character actually laid down on the path rather than continuing to walk.

       Reply
19. 

    E. M. Mitra

    December 17, 2019

    “What Lies Ahead?”
    By: E.M. Mitra
    The seemingly eternal path that lies ahead is filled with unknown and uncertainty.

    It is a ritual for us — in our little village — that when we’ve reached a certain age, we’d have to traverse the mysterious yet alluring road that leads deeper in the forest. When asked why they’d just answer us with a short, “Because it is a requirement.” They never told us nor spared even the tiniest detail on whatever is ahead into the woods. Instead, they rather let us walk blindly, and be surprised by whatever we will see.

    “The forest will change you.” The other elders I’ve asked said.

    “Did it change you?” I’d asked again but would get no more reply.

    Since I was a kid, I’ve always wondered what’s it like under those trees, atop that road. I’ve tried once sneaking but the elders had forbidden me and had said that I am not ready yet. Now that they deem I am, the curiosity I bore’s no longer alone and is now entangled with a sense of fear… of uncertainty and unknown.

    We were gathered at dawn, There were three of us. They told us to wait at the entrance of the forest, and I’m glad they did. I got to bond and talk with someone that shares the question — What lies ahead? We speculated and conversed until we heard the elders announce to us that it is time. We swallowed our empty mouth and with a short step… and then with another, and with another, we get closer to the blockade.

    As soon as we entered the first line of trees, I could no longer see my two peers. They had just magically disappeared, yet their voices were audible. I looked behind and the elders also disappeared. I felt alone, despite being able to hear them. Panic arose inside us, especially when it came… it struck me like lightning, passed through me in a flash. I bled light, and then dark took place. It was a moment of clarity…
    The forest will definitely change us… change me…

    Reply
20. 

    Network_Overseer

    December 17, 2019

    Did you know? -Billy

    Did you know that the forest is haunted? I swear, it’s true. Only the Desperate go there, but none of them come back.
    Did you know you can hear the screams of the Beasts? They hunt only in the deepest parts of the forest here, too afraid of the lights and noise they wait for the Desperate to come.
    See, the forest is haunted, and it is full of lost ideas and shattered dreams. The moss grows on abandoned hopes and deadly flowers sprout from decaying love. That’s how it always has been.
    In the darkest corners of the forest lies the Deep Tree. Its bark glowing dull as the foliage blots out all light from the suns, and on it grows the Deepfruit. The ultimate goal of all the Desperate.
    Did you know the Deepfruit tastes bitter? Not so bitter as to make you stop, but bitter enough to mask the first pangs of pain as its seeds latch inside of you. If you’re quick enough you can kill yourself before it progresses farther, but will you have the courage?
    The forest is haunted by all the failures of humanity, which is why the Desperate are drawn to it. They crave to overcome not only their failures but those of their predecessors.
    But you know all of this already don’t you? You ran from the beasts and rationed your meals, eventually tasting the fruit.
    Did you know the Beasts welcome you with open arms?

    Reply
    1. 

       Joseph myles

       December 23, 2019

       Good take but the tone seems a little off, it seems like a friend telling another friend about the forest but it seems a bit cryptic

       Reply
21. 

    Rebecca Lomax

    December 16, 2019

    “Be Bold” by Rebecca Lomax

    “The Forest changes you,” they say in hushed voices.

    “Tosh!” your Grandmother says dismissively. She entered The Forest once as a child and came back three days later, unharmed. “The Forest doesn’t change you. It reveals what you already are.”

    She’s the one you go to when Mr. Fox asks for your hand in marriage. You are pretty sure he comes from The Forest. He is handsome, rich and charming; like the prince from a fairy tale. But there is something dangerous in his eyes and smile that you do not entirely trust.

    “If you don’t want to say no don’t say yes yet, either,” Grandmother says. “Next time he visits, secretly follow him home and see who he really is.”

    The next day, you follow him until he enters The Forest. Then you visit your Grandmother for more advice.

    “If you want to follow him through The Forest, it will be risky,” she warns you but she sees the determination in your eyes. Wistfully she says, “If you are good, clever and lucky, The Forest can be the making of you, my girl.”

    Then in a more business-like voice, she tells you, “There are rules that might help. Take food and drink with you and share it with anyone who is hungry or thirsty. Stick to the path. Be kind to everyone you meet, including animals. Never refuse to help someone. If an animal can talk, always spare its life no matter how hungry you get. Remember that a person’s looks do not affect their personality and some wolves are hairy on the inside.”

    You thank her. She smiles, gets up from her rocking chair and kisses your forehead, “Be bold, be bold… but not too bold.”

    The next day, you stand at the edge of The Forest. Your bag is packed and your head is high as you take the first step onto The Forest path Mr. Fox had taken.

    “The Forest doesn’t change you,” you whisper to yourself. “It reveals what you already are.”

    You take another step.

    Reply
    1. 

       Philip C.

       December 16, 2019

       I rarely see a second person writing perspective. This was very well done, and the perspective makes it all the more interesting. As far as the perspective itself, I’m no expert in second person, but for this story it’s done very well, as it does a good job of drawing in the reader. Great story, great writing!

       Reply
       1. 

          Rebecca Lomax

          December 16, 2019

          Thank you! <3 I’m glad you like it.

          Reply
    2. 

       MasaCur

       December 17, 2019

       I really enjoyed this story, Rebecca. The rules that the grandmother give speak of a much bigger lore to the forest at least, and perhaps the world at large. Also enjoyed the second-person narrative. As Philip C. also stated, it’s rare to see it. I also rather liked how you subverted the prompt. The thought that the forest does not in fact change you, it may just change how you see yourself, revealing you for who you are.
       Well done.

       Reply
       1. 

          Rebecca Lomax

          December 17, 2019

          Thanks <3

          I like fairy tales so most of the rules the Grandmother gives are how to survive a fairy tale.

          In fairy tales, most men coming from forests to ask for a women’s hand in marriage are not to be trusted. The Robber Bridegroom, Bluebeard, trolls and the Devil have all come from the forest seeking a wife. However, sometimes enchanted princes and true loves can come from the forest too.

          The Forest is where you find out who they really are.

          Reply
    3. 

       Andrew Paul Wiener

       December 18, 2019

       I loved this! The second person perspective did honestly throw me off; it’s not common, and personally that perspective always reminds me of the create-your-own-ending stories I read as a child. But that by no means diminished the quality of the story itself. It was very much “Classic Fairy Tale”, and I love that! I also like the twist you gave to the prompt: the forest DOESN’T change you, only shows who you really are. So much truth there. I just love, love, love this! Especially the grandmother. Her rules are classic, but you see a unique flare to her in some other lines: “The Forest can be the making of you, my girl”, “… some wolves are hairy on the inside”, “Be bold, be bold… but not too bold”. Just phenomenal.

       Reply
       1. 

          Rebecca Lomax

          December 19, 2019

          Thank you! I’m glad you could enjoy the story even though it is in a perspective that you are aren’t fond of.

          The ‘some wolves are hairy on the inside’ line was actually inspired the Charles Perrault version of Little Red Ridding Hood. He liked to end his fairy tales with morals. The one for Little Red Ridding Hood is

          Moral: Children, especially attractive, well bred young ladies, should never talk to strangers, for if they should do so, they may well provide dinner for a wolf. I say “wolf,” but there are various kinds of wolves. There are also those who are charming, quiet, polite, unassuming, complacent, and sweet, who pursue young women at home and in the streets. And unfortunately, it is these gentle wolves who are the most dangerous ones of all.

          In other words, ‘young ladies beware. Not everyone who wants to hurt you will be as obvious as a fairy tale wolf. Be careful because, some men are wolves on the inside.’

          Reply
    4. 

       Jonas

       December 19, 2019

       I don’t usually enjoy super fantastical works, in part because they can get a little too expository, which seems like a death sentence for this kind of short-form writing. But I like this one. It’s got a lot of personality, particularly on the part of the Grandmother, that captures a sense of awe. Also, this is chock-full of great lines like ‘some wolves are hairy on the inside’. Love it.

       Reply
       1. 

          Rebecca Lomax

          December 19, 2019

          Thank you <3 I’m glad you like the Grandmother

          Reply
    5. 

       R J Chapman

       December 19, 2019

       Hmmm…not going to lie, I struggled with the 2nd person narrative (it’s an involuntary teacher’s response and automatically makes me reach for my red pen). However, I kept coming back to this one over the last day. I really enjoyed the Grandmother’s advice. While fairy tales often have rigid warnings about strict adherence to the rules, she says it ‘might help’ implying there is a choice. Part of growing up is making your own choices and here she is ensuring that her granddaughter is just well informed. The advice is also not hidden in riddles but simply advising her to be a good person. Can she go into the forest and test herself and still maintain her character/morals/beliefs? It’s easy to say you have these things when life is comfortable but when you are hungry; when another asks you for help; when you’re attracted to the wrong person; can you keep them? You don’t who you are until you’re tested. The forest (a metaphor for adult life) will reveal who you really are. So despite my early misgivings, I really enjoyed it.

       Weird side note, the way I got over 2nd person narrative was to stop reading it in my own voice and tried to imagine Emma Thompson narrating it!

       Reply
       1. 

          Rebecca Lomax

          December 19, 2019

          Thanks! I’m glad you liked it despite the second person narrative. Also, I’d LOVE to hear Emma Thompson narrate this or anything else.

          I decided that the Grandmother should give advice that might help rather than rules which ensure success because sometimes you can do everything right and things still end badly. Also, you can make mistakes and still have things work out in the end. Even in fairy tales, following the rules doesn’t always ensure a happy ending.

          Reply
22. 

    Jonas

    December 16, 2019

    The Army and the Fort, by Jonas

    I’m the fort. They’re the army.

    They hurl great boulders against my walls. Stone scrapes against stone. I sally in response, howling and swinging my spear. The onslaught ceases as the attackers fall back, before returning as one. They hit harder – the fortress is about to fall. The rock cracks, then crumbles. Blood is mixed with tears now.

    I flee in the direction of the trees, the beat of marching feet rattling my chest. I run past streams and stumble across a ravine. I trample the brush and trip over gnarled roots, never stopping.

    Push deeper into the forest. Deeper into the murky green.

    The world falls silent, but my breaths remind me that I’m still here. Nothing else reaches through—

    “Darling, why do you cry?”

    What? My watery gaze flits between gaps in the leaves.

    “Did you hurt yourself?”

    Nothing. Where is that coming from?

    “Ah. Playing again. But you went and ruined it for everyone. Again.”

    Is it behind me?

    “Don’t be such a spoil, darling. Who’s gonna play the fort, if not you?”

    Stroking my shoulder?

    “You’re a good boy, at the end of the day. And you play the part so well.”

    Fingers in my hair.

    “You can’t stay here forever. It’s dark and cold and so, so quiet. It’s time to be with them. Time to be together.”

    It’s crawled inside my head now.

    I turn and retrace my steps. As their voices begin to cut through the silence,

    I feel a smile play across my lips.

    They’re the army. I’m the fort.

    Reply
    1. 

       elisabethwise

       December 16, 2019

       Wow!! This is so good, dude!!! I love everything about this. Super well-written, perfectly paced, and the repetition at the end??? So good! I’m interested to know more about the voice in the forest, too. They definitely seem maternal, but not on the narrator’s side. I’m hooked. Awesome work, Jonas, can’t wait to see more from you!!!

       Reply
       1. 

          Jonas

          December 17, 2019

          Your flattery leaves me breathless.

          Reply
    2. 

       Philip C.

       December 16, 2019

       So was the forest playing with him like a toy, or was it helping him to face his fears and take up his role? This is a very interesting and confusing story. I like it, and it has a good take on the prompt, but I just don’t fully understand what the forest is doing in this. That’s not a bad thing, I just didn’t understand what the forest is supposed to be in this story.

       Reply
       1. 

          Jonas

          December 17, 2019

          A bit of both, I suppose. The forest represents social isolation and the voice forces the kid to come to terms with the fact that he (the kid) would rather be sad in company than sad alone.

          Reply
    3. 

       R J Chapman

       December 18, 2019

       It starts off relatively innocent, children playing at war with all the exaggeration of the senses really making it feel like you’re inside a child’s mind at play. The maternal voice just has that chilling edge to it. The false flattery is really unnerving, as it the change in thought process when the possession (?) takes place. I will definitely be revisiting this again. Loved it!

       Reply
23. 

    Ghoul26

    December 16, 2019

    Falling Sarah by Ghoul26

    With leaking eyes Sarah ran through the snow, the distant voices of her so called friends begging her to come back. Showing up at this party was a mistake. As she rushed through the dark trees, all she could think about was how Madison had embarrassed her in front of Robbie. Her tears turned to shock when she felt a sudden sting in the side of her ankle, followed by the complete weightlessness of an infinite fall.

    Sarah awoke to daylight, already on her feet. She had never felt more alone. Her moment of misery however, was interrupted by the playful shouts of children. Sarah turned her head and slowly made her way towards the sound, dragging her twisted ankle. As the children came into view, she could see them play among the autumn leaves. The boy looked at Sarah, before he waved at his sister to follow him, running back to their father. Sarah limped closer, hoping to ask for help. The man raised his head and Sarah’s jaw dropped.

    “Robbie…” She called out, as she felt herself falling again.

    When she woke up, she scanned a pitch dark forest.

    “Where did he go? Where is Robbie?” She muttered.

    Further down the path she could see a flashlight. She hurried her way towards it, screaming Robbie’s name. The flashlight turned towards her, blinding her.

    A familiar voice shouted. “Oh my god, Sarah!”

    A sudden anger washed over her. She couldn’t quite explain it. Her hands instinctively reached out towards Madison’s throat and she wrestled her friend to the ground. This was all her fault, she had to pay. The woman gasped for air, but managed to swing her flashlight against the side of her attacker’s head.

    Sarah fell once more.

    Opening her eyes she found herself encircled by candles. Behind every one of them stood one of her friends. She looked at Robbie and rivers ran down her cheeks. He’d gotten so old now. The man took a deep breath and stepped forward, grabbing her hands.

    With a soft voice he told her. “You can move on now.”

    Reply
    1. 

       Philip C.

       December 16, 2019

       Very mysterious. You don’t understand what is going on until the last sentence. I take it that she is supposed to have died from the fall, and her spirit remained because of her unresolved argument with her friends. Great take on the prompt.

       Reply
       1. 

          Ghoul26

          December 16, 2019

          Thank you! Thank you! Thank You!
          Such kind words!

          Reply
    2. 

       elisabethwise

       December 16, 2019

       This is really interesting!! It’s very open-ended and up to a lot of interpretation, but that’s a good thing! To me, it seems like Sarah may have been caught in limbo, cycling through painful memories and unable to escape, and Robbie was the one to release her from it. However, I do wish the story was a bit clearer, considering this is flash fiction and open-endedness like this often takes several chapters to fully explain. Regardless, this is a very solid piece, and I eagerly await more of your writing, Ghoul!! Awesome job!!!!!!

       Reply
24. 

    Philip C.

    December 16, 2019

    The Call to Adventure
    By Philip C.

    The boy stepped quickly behind a tree, obscuring his view of the passing group of travelers. One of them was talking endlessly about his good fortune, the man in question having found an enchanted sword that doubtlessly called him to great adventure.

    “The forest can change you.” That’s what the stories said. Those that dared enter were rumored to have their fate changed, becoming kings, knights, or users of the magical arts.

    Henry was not in the forest by choice. He had run into it to avoid the hands of the labor contractors. They often pressed the young with no family into service. For Henry, it was the forest or the slog farms.

    He had barely managed to escape such a fate, thanks to the fear of the forest that the townsfolk held.

    “The forest can change you, and not always for the better.” That was something many in the town said. They did not trust the misty woods that stood to the north of their homes. Henry had no other choice. So, he hid, and waited.

    A noise caused him to turn. There, behind him, obscured by the mist, something big was approaching. A loud growl told him it had caught his scent. He had no other choice. He ran out from cover and towards the group.

    They were gone. The party had already passed by. Henry ran on, panic rising in his throat as he rushed through the trees, hoping that he was getting closer to the travelers. Hoping he had taken the right way.

    He never saw the edge. Nor the drop into the ravine. All he saw was water, then darkness.

    Henry awoke in a cave. As he sat up, he found that he felt no pain, had no bruises or cuts. As he rose to his feet, a voice, strange, but clear and melodic, spoke from behind him.

    “Welcome, traveler.”

    Henry turned to find a being from another world looking down on him, ethereal, and wonderous.

    The forest will change you; Henry knew that now.

    But never in ways that you would expect.

    Reply
    1. 

       Ghoul26

       December 16, 2019

       Well, beats labor, let me tell you that! Although I don’t quite get what he changed into, or is that the point?

       Anyway, I like the way you build sentences, I can learn from that.

       Reply
       1. 

          Philip C.

          December 16, 2019

          I tried to give the idea of what is meant by “change” at the start, with the man who found the sword. Perhaps I was a bit vague. The idea is that your fate is changed. You take the first step along the path of adventure, though its never the path you expect.
          Thank you for the question. I never know how other people are going to interpret my writing, so it feels good to get feedback.

          Reply
    2. 

       elisabethwise

       December 16, 2019

       So good!! I’m such a sucker for repetition, and it works so effectively here. My only criticism is that it should be longer! I think there’s so much to explore here, and it deserves many more pages- who is Henry? Why are these contractors trying to employ him? What’s this otherworldly being? I hope you stick with this story and expand on it, it deserves its own book!! Awesome work, my friend!!

       Reply
       1. 

          Philip C.

          December 16, 2019

          Thank you! I do wish I had a bit more to work with, so I’m very happy that you liked it!

          Reply
    3. 

       MasaCur

       December 17, 2019

       I thought this was a particularly good entry. It definitely seems like the first chapter (or part of a chapter) of a larger story. Your word usage is fairly straightforward, which is not a bad thing, although I wonder if it’s also a side effect of the word limit. I’d love to read about what happens to Henry after this part ends. It certainly sounds interesting.

       Reply
       1. 

          Philip C.

          December 17, 2019

          It is mainly due to the word limit. My first draft always ends up around one hundred words over, and I just have to parse it down to the right size, so a few things are always taken out or changed.

          Reply
    4. 

       C.J.

       December 18, 2019

       I like the idea of ‘Change’ in this case being a change of fate instead of a physical or mental change. Although I will admit, I was expecting a Skyrim reference when Henry woke up.

       I also like how accurate the depiction of getting lost in a forest is. It’s easier than most people realize, especially if you aren’t familiar with the area. Forests are also good at hiding obstacles and sudden drops that can appear out of nowhere, especially if you’re running in poor lighting.

       Reply
       1. 

          Philip C.

          December 18, 2019

          Thanks! I don’t think the Skyrim reference would have worked in this case, but I can see why you might expect it.

          Reply
    5. 

       S.D. Field

       December 27, 2019

       One brief note before getting to the story: sending forced labor to the farms is good when it is abundant. I would rather recommend sending forced labor to gather peat or be used in mining operations. It is more risky, requires barely any skill and just a way worse job.
       The story, though, is rather good. The repetition is nice to see, the ending was unexpected, but not in a bad way, and your ability to fit the text into the 350 words limit is admirable. I lack the same.

       Reply
25. 

    Gabriel Tallent

    December 16, 2019

    Druids, Gabriel Tallent

    They said “only the forest would change you”, yes my peers did believe the only place the spirits sang was on the land. In the mountain, forest, and coast did the spirits, ancestral, elemental, and otherwise, dance wildly. Only there would they live and make merry, alas, they were wrong.

    I’m John, I was druid, and I have seen the spirits that have taken to enhabiting the human world. Some believe we’re separate from nature, and the spirits will shrivel and die in places of morter and brick, but I know better. I have seen the city’s totem animals, Rat sneaks in homes and streets, Dog sits loyally by the human sort, Roach hungrily devories all he can reach and Cat chases fouler spirits from home and hearth. I have seen ancestors aswell, guarding buildings which contain their children and their children’s children from dark invaders, others walk the streets, some malicious robbers, others which keep safe the innocent. This all, on top of the new ones I have spied in my walkabout. The spirit of our homes which if pleased tend the hearth and clean the grounds, the spirits of the field which bring fair weather and kill weeds, and interestingly of all, the machine spirits.

    Some druid in the audience most likely spit out what they were drinking when I said that but can explain. We put our faith in our machines, we personify them and hold them in high esteem, and thusly, they take on lives of their own. They think and feel in their shells of plastic, and they walk their own woods of servers and fiberglass, they combat demons of code, they sing songs from speakers, and yet, like all city spirits, their tales are untold, and their heroes are unsung of.

    When I first told the archdruid of some conclave, I was cast out, decried and stripped of my titles. “Heretic”, “blasphemer”, the cry and called, but I care not now, I have new spiritual sponsors. So, then died Johnathon H. Wilder the Druid, and so began living Johnathon H. Wilder the Technomancer.

    Reply
    1. 

       Philip C.

       December 16, 2019

       An interesting idea. A druid of the technological world. Is this something you pulled from a world of your own? I think a modern fantasy with druids who guard the internet and the super computers that run it against Technomancers who wish to have a free world of information (or something like that) would be a great read. All in all a good way of changing the idea of “The forest will change you” into a belief of “only the forest will change you” in a modern setting.

       Reply
    2. 

       elisabethwise

       December 17, 2019

       Nice work! I really enjoy the introspective, reflective nature of the narrator as they explain the different types of spirits. The idea of machines having spirits is also super interesting, and I would love to see more of this universe explored in future prompts. Great job!!

       Reply
26. 

    Seán Gray

    December 16, 2019

    “Memories” by Seán Gray

    The sky was blue and cold. No clouds marred it, no birds flew high and lonely above. Serene, chilling peace. Elliot didn’t care much for it. He didn’t care for much, nowadays.

    Probably for the best, in his line of work. Seven bullets slid into his carbine, sweet as sin. He’d only need one, for this job.

    Best to be prepared regardless. Out here, this tangle of bogs and wetland, he was king. His quarry knew that. Knew that it’d be a losing battle, trying to hide from Elliot here.

    That was why she’d run to the forest. A smile traced his lips. She was cunning, he’d give her that. Many a man wouldn’t dare set foot there, where the heavens were lost beneath the canopy.

    Elliot wasn’t most men. So he picked a path across the peat, eyes on the ground. One misstep could be a death sentence here, leave you trapped. He’d learned that long ago.
    The trees rose up to greet him, twisted and old. Shadows came too, draped themselves across the ground, languid and slow. Many had gotten lost here, wandered until hunger or the bears took them. Those were the lucky ones.

    Elliot didn’t intend to join their ranks. The undergrowth had been disturbed here, trampled underfoot. Well, that certainly made this easier. He stepped past the first oak, following the oaks.

    There was a chill, one that lingered despite his coat. Elliot remembered this place. It almost felt like yesterday, last he’d entered beneath the boughs. He’d been so much younger then.

    Now his heart felt like it was made of wood. He closed his eyes, pushed the nightmare of hounds and running away. Now it was him, chasing another. A townsfolk would call it chance. Elliot knew better.

    The woods played games. Quiet ones, that twisted you up and turned you inside out. Now all that was left of the scared boy was a battered man. She’d find out soon enough. By then, his gun would be a mercy.

    So Elliot soldiered on, into the gloom and memories.

    Reply
    1. 

       elisabethwise

       December 17, 2019

       I love this!! I can’t get enough of figurative language, descriptive imagery, and self-reflection, and this story is dripping with all three! I’m very interested in Elliot’s character. He seems to be some kind of assassin, perhaps a very skilled one who takes pride in his work. He doesn’t seem all that human, either. I could read an entire book about him! Awesome work!!

       Reply
    2. 

       Mindy Garza

       December 19, 2019

       Certainly caught my attention, now I only wish there was more. I love the mysterious nature of a clear danger. It doesnt feel like the story takes place in the present, and yet I can still see myself there watching the scene unfold in vivid detail. Of course I could be wrong, but I enjoy it nevertheless. Very well done.

       Reply
    3. 

       D.W. Fitzgerald

       December 19, 2019

       Very descriptive writing. The overbearing, humid atmosphere of this boggy forest bled from every word. I wish that there was a little more room for the narrative to breathe, I don’t think the who or the why of Elliot’s pursuit is important to the narrative as presented, but I’d certainly like to know more about him. 🙂

       Reply
27. 

    Twangyflame0

    December 16, 2019

    Title: A Walk in the Woods by Twangyflame0

    As he was climbing the cliffside, Constantine looked back at the shoreline, where his dingy was moored, and the sea and breathed a sigh of relief. It felt nice to be away from imperial politics and training the marked his youth. He then looked back, tighten his sword buckle, and kept climbing.
    After almost slipping off the cliff, Constantine came to the top as saw a verdant forest that stretches into forever. Birds chirped and small critters scuttled around as Constantine walked and mapped his way through the beautiful greenery. As he made his way, Constantine came across clearing with three circles of mushrooms growing.
    Before he could ponder what this was, a giant blur came out of the brush and knocked Constantine down to the ground. A beast that brought back horror stories that Constantine had heard from the Northern Forest of Endol. The creature was some sort of horrible hybrid between man and wolf. It had patchy, mud-colored fur and bright green eyes filled with hate. As it snarled down at him, Constantine was surprised to find the sound to be something akin to a language and not some guttural, inhuman sound.
    Constantine’s curiosity was overshadowed, as he saw the beast raise its claw to kill Constantine. But it stayed its had as a voice called out from the brush. Bloodred was the color of the woman who stood and shouted at the beast in its same dialect.
    The beast ripped off Constantine’s sword, held it aloft, as it spoke, but Constantine could understand what the beast was saying. It saw him as a threat of some kind.
    The woman produced a dagger and shouted back at the beast. The growled, then skulked off into the brush, turning into a strong man with a thick beard and messy hair.
    The woman pointed her dagger at Constantine and in a thick accent, “Come with me and step around the fae circles.”
    Constantine knew he wanted different, but he never expected this.

    Reply
    1. 

       Will Morrow

       December 16, 2019

       Overall I like the over arching feeling that there’s more going on behind the sense that the protagonist is either aware or unaware of such as the imperial politics and the fae circles and monsters respectively which help to create an idea of a living world in the background but I feel that the beast scene could have been written differently to help build tension, maybe focusing more on the fangs, snarls and eyes to focus the readers attention on the more dangerous or threatening aspects of the creature. I liked it overall but thought it should have been broken up into paragraphs and had less repetition of the protagonists name to help the pacing.

       Reply
    2. 

       Ghoul26

       December 16, 2019

       Umm, how do I go about this?
       I like the story idea in general, but some of the typos throw me off a bit. I’d point at things, but if you re-read it yourself, I’m sure you’d find them. Also, the name of your main character is repeated a bit too much. Maybe find other ways to refer to him. Like, the warrior, the man, the wanderer or just “he”. It’s just very repetitive otherwise. I hate giving this sort of commentary, as I’m pretty bad myself.

       Other than that I like the simple short encounter, it packs a punch and your beast stays with the theme of the week.

       Reply
    3. 

       elisabethwise

       December 17, 2019

       This is so good! I’m very invested in Constantine, and I’d love to know more about him. This story seems like a smaller part of a much larger universe, since you have such a good grasp on these characters. I wonder who the woman is and how she fits into this universe as well? Can’t wait to see more of your work, friend!!!

       Reply
    4. 

       C.J.

       December 18, 2019

       The idea is interesting, and sort of gives me a ‘Robinson Crusoe’ meets ‘Bloodborne’ vibe. However, you seem to be addicted to using run-on sentences and unnecessary commas. This makes it awkward to read mentally or aloud. I’ve personally dubbed this the “William Shatner effect”, where, things just pause, randomly, without meaning.

       You could also use a bit more colorful language, such as ‘loathing’ instead of hate, or ‘burly’ instead of ‘strong’ for an adjective.

       Reply
28. 

    Madelyn

    December 16, 2019

    One Last Attempt
    By Madelyn

    Balthazar stood at the forest’s entry. The townsfolk’s warnings of how the forest would change him echoed in his mind. If not for recent developments, he would have thought that they were just plain lunatics.
    He put aside his doubts and entered the forest. He hoped that the change in question would be literal. The path looked as if it was part of the town, and it eventually split into two different directions.
    “This is ridiculous.” Balthazar looked around to make sure no one saw him, then shifted into his bird form. It was more natural to him this time, and that horrified him. The right path led to what might be a scenic clearing in warmer weather. The left path led to a gap in the earth. There.
    Balthazar flew back below the trees and shifted back to his natural form before heading down the left path. If there was a way to reverse this power, Balthazar did not want to risk being stuck in a bird form forever.
    When he finally reached the gap, he noticed just how warm it became.
    The ground shook, but Balthazar did not lose his balance. Nor did he show his fear when a shimmering hand as big as him emerged from the gap. The hand rose up to show an eye on the palm, and Balthazar could not help but wonder how no one in town mentioned this.
    One look was all it took for the being to simply shake its hand as if it was a head.
    Balthazar’s journey was in vain. If this beast could not reverse the curse that gave him these bird-like powers, nothing could.
    The forest did change Balthazar that day. Not a literal change, as he hoped. As he walked out with tear-stained eyes and a hoarse voice, he did nothing when he saw Gabriel.
    “Now that you tended to that,” Gabriel spoke as if Balthazar had not lost hope for his future, “Let us be on our way.”

    Reply
    1. 

       Alexander

       December 16, 2019

       This story feels vaguely familiar, like The Amulet of Samarkand or something. I like how it feels like an excerpt from a longer story, but still fits as a short one here. Great job!

       Reply
       1. 

          Madelyn

          December 16, 2019

          Thank you so much! I had a chance to read a little bit of The Amulet of Samarkand awhile back, and though I haven’t completed it yet, I think I can see some similarities. Good observation on its potential for a longer story; Balthazar is part of a writing project of mine and this prompt was a great help in figuring out what I wanted for his past.

          Reply
29. 

    MasaCur

    December 16, 2019

    A Test of Courage

    by Myro

    “Come on, Kiyotaka!”

    Kiyotaka sighed with dread. He wasn’t sure this was a good idea. Akira’s ideas rarely ended well.

    Akira stepped in the room. “What’s taking you?” She was a tall girl who never grew out of her tomboy phase, and never let Kiyotaka forget she was the older sister.

    “Are you sure about this?” Kiyotaka asked, his voice cracking.

    “This is practically a rite of passage. Now, let’s get going!”

    “But Mom and Dad…”

    “Are still visiting friends,” Akira interrupted. “Now get. Unless you’re scared.” Akira pressed her face up in front of Kiyotaka’s, a smug smile on her lips.

    “I’m not scared!” Kiyotaka defiantly replied, trying to convince himself as much as her.

    Akira grabbed him by the arm, and dragged him out to the forest behind their summer home.

    “I don’t like this…” Kiyotaka sighed.

    “Don’t worry, I’m in high school now. That makes me practically adult,” Akira countered.

    “Then act like it,” Kiyotaka muttered.

    They ventured into the forest, Kiyotaka’s legs quivering with each step. As the lights of the resort faded away, he stopped, thinking he had heard something. It started as a growl, but suddenly a loud, sharp bark sounded out.

    Akira let out a scream and ran. Kiyotaka was cemented to the ground for a second, then chased after her. He wasn’t as fast, and it was hard to follow her in the darkness.

    Kiyotaka broke into a clearing, and he saw…someone in the middle of it.

    “Akira-nee?” Kiyotaka squeaked.

    It wasn’t Akira. A woman with orange-red hair, dressed in a kimono, sprang at him, grabbing him by the shoulder in a mere handful of steps.

    “Who are you?” she demanded.

    “I’m…”

    “You need to leave!”

    Kiyotaka shook in fear.

    “Kiyotaka, where are you?” Akira called out, blessedly close.

    The woman released Kiyotaka, and escaped into the forest. A second later, an orange-red fox dashed out, followed by Akira. The fox looked at Kiyotaka for a second, then ran off.

    Was she…the fox?

    Kiyotaka bit his lip, suspecting the legends were true, and his world changed forever.

    Reply
    1. 

       Lord_Gatte

       December 16, 2019

       After reading this for a third time, I really love the innocence behind this, and Akira’s pushy, fun nature. This almost feels like something you could see a younger brother and sister doing. I only wish we were able to know what the Kitsune thought was incredibly dangerous. Enjoyed the read!

       Reply
       1. 

          MasaCur

          December 17, 2019

          I was actually not going to write this, as it’s just easier to stick my head out my door and yell, “Thanks for the review,” but the more I thought about it…
          As you know, this short is just part of a the larger shared universe we’ve constructed, and as such, the two of us know that the Kitsune was real. We also know that spirit animals sometimes feud with their other-species cousins, so the growl heard earlier on could have come from a Tanuki (raccoon dog) or Mujina (badger) that the Kitsune could have been battling with. Or maybe the Kitsune was on the run from human hunters using dogs to track her. But we’re not meant to know. The story comes from Kiyotaka Yone’s viewpoint, and he can only suspect and be led to personal belief. Although said beliefs do ultimately influence him to join the Occult Club in that co-written story.
          Enough of me rambling out an explanation that benefits me more than anyone else. Anyway, thanks for the review. I’m sure I’ll say as much in person.

          Reply
    2. 

       Philip C.

       December 16, 2019

       I liked the ending. Nothing is confirmed, and he can’t be sure of what he saw; only that what he saw makes him question the world he knows. Very well done.
       I was wondering about a few grammatical errors, such as “that makes me practically adult”, and whether those were due to translation into English. There also seem to be points where you just forgot to add a word. Was that because of the word count?

       Reply
       1. 

          MasaCur

          December 16, 2019

          No, it’s pretty much me sacrificing words to come under the word count. I admit that one sentence might be technically grammatically correct, but it’s clunky. But Akira is trying to say “I’m pretty much grown-up” as opposed to “I’m pretty much a grown-up” if that makes any sense. Thanks for the review.

          Reply
30. 

    Matthew

    December 16, 2019

    The Real World, By Matthew
    It was a bleak midday. The morning had promised us a full day of gentle breezes, mild temperatures, and lovely cloud coverage. We could have been on a walk, out for coffee, or exploring the historical district downtown, but no, we chose to squander this opportunity on a family camping trip!

    I hated it.

    The insects, the bacteria, the dying trees, the ever-present sense that some vicious predator might sneak into our camp and drag me into the night kicking and screaming. It was more than the human mind could bear. Not that I had a choice, mind you. My mom would be heart broken if I skipped this evermore rare chance at family bonding, so I reluctantly tagged along.

    We decided to explore one of the various forests around town. We settled on Lost River State Forest. An ominous name for a premier birdwatching location. We set up camp and when the inevitable call for firewood came and I was tasked with the job. Lucky me.

    Dismayed at the prospect, I sulked down into the woods. To my surprise, I wasn’t immediately repulsed! Though dirt and broken branches littered the ground, the needle-like leaves of the various coniferous trees held a certain grace and distinction to them. Their elegant presence delighted me and held my spirits high on my otherwise tedious firewood journey.

    Having completed my task, I debated my return path and my sanity. Could I really be enjoying a forest? The thought disgusted me, and yet here I was. Shaking my wary, I decided to head back to camp. The return trip was even more encapsulating. I noticed it everywhere: a beautiful black raven flying gracefully overhead, the careful and meticulous structure of a pinecone, a diligent gopher foraging for food, and the gentle swaying of spruce trees. All these ponderous sites filled me with intrigue and awe.

    My mathematical brain was in flux. I had never considered the beauty beyond the filth. The intricate and interconnected world of biology was opened up to me, and I saw how small my safe, clean bubble really was.

    Reply
    1. 

       MasaCur

       December 16, 2019

       I really enjoyed your story, Matthew. I’m sure we’ve all encountered the, “Well, I really didn’t think I’d like this, but now that I’ve experienced it, it was actually rather enjoyable,” event in our life at least once. So I found it fairly relatable.

       My few quibbles come in the way of a couple of grammatical or spelling errors. The third chapter erroneously used the word “viscous” instead of “vicious” and the sixth paragraph has a sentence that started with “Shaking my weary..” which I’m sure you meant to put the word “head” in. I’m sure a quick proof read by a friend, or even yourself some time after writing this would have corrected this.

       Reply
       1. 

          Matthew

          December 16, 2019

          Good catch! I actually misspelled wary there lol. “Shaking my wary” is grammatically correct lol. It’s just not a common turn of phrase It means something along the lines of “Brushing off my caution” Or “re-grounding myself”
          Thanks!

          Now that I think about it, a Viscous predator would also be terrifying!

          Reply
    2. 

       Seán Gray

       December 16, 2019

       This is a great character-driven story, I really enjoyed it. The tone is witty without being overdone and the narrator’s growth and realisation was beautifully done. In particular, the line “and I saw how small my safe, clean bubble really was.” hammered home that feeling of immensity and discovery perfectly. Great job!

       Reply
    3. 

       Philip C.

       December 16, 2019

       I love this one. It’s not fantasy, or necessarily fiction, but it has a fantastical feel to it. It’s a way of looking at the world in a new light, and finding beauty and wonder in all that you see and discover. Very well done.

       Reply
    4. 

       Ghoul26

       December 16, 2019

       Well, that’s a pretty wholesome change. Not what I expected, you have this ominously intellectual or intellectually ominous way of writing. But hey, putting our initial judgment aside is very much the moral of the story here. Seems I’ve learned it twice. Joking aside, this feels exactly like my bother wrote it. He too is a grump, scoffing at fun.

       Reply
    5. 

       elisabethwise

       December 16, 2019

       Aww, Matthew, you write the most wholesome stuff!! This is probably the most literal take on the prompt I’ve read so far, and I love it so much. The forest did change our germophobic narrator in the best way possible. I hope they enjoyed the rest of their family camping trip. You never fail to impress me, man. Great work!

       Reply
    6. 

       Mindy Garza

       December 19, 2019

       I thourouly enjoy this take on the prompt. I’m seeing a lot of suspense and fantasy, which is great, but this reminds me how much I love the outdoors. The prose has a good pace, and reasonable character development. I also appreciate the details like mom being heart broken and the historical district downtown, so it feels like it could be part of a bigger story. It just doesnt have to be. It suffices as is. Very well done.

       Reply
    7. 

       Michael Cain

       December 20, 2019

       Fun, great detail, and a beguiling POV, coming from a seemingly erudite, and endlessly fussy young man from a well off family. Made me think of a character from Downton Abbey traipsing through the forest because he was “supposed to.” And such a dramatic young man, wondering if he’d lost his mind because he was enjoying himself.

       Reply
31. 

    Alexander

    December 16, 2019

    The Forest Demanded
    By Alexander (Broken Earth)

    Why?

    That’s the only question I had. Not how, not where, but why. Why did she do it?

    It was the forest, my folks said, the forest that made her do it.
    That didn’t make it any better for me. I thought I could trust her. She betrayed me.

    I couldn’t take it. I needed to know why. The forest’s will couldn’t be the only reason she did it.

    So I went to her, like a fool, and with tears forming in my eyes I looked at her.

    “Why?” I asked, not making time for a greeting. If we exchanged pleasantries, I’m sure my will would’ve crumbled beneath that smile of hers.

    Instantly her smile vanished, replaced with a disappointed, tired look.

    “You know why. The forest told me to.” She said it as if that would excuse it. The forest was probably the thing I wanted to hear least.

    “No! I don’t care about the forest! I want to know why you did it! Didn’t he matter to you? Didn’t you love him?” My voice cracked at the end, and tears flowed through my outburst.

    I was shaking, but I wasn’t angry. My grief was so powerful that it racked my body with sobs and sniffles, but I stood there waiting for an answer.

    “Of course I loved him. I knew you’d be the one to take this the hardest,” she looked down as though she was debating something within herself, “so I prepared something to help you understand.”

    I looked at her with confusion, disgust, anger, and so many more emotions swirling around inside. How could she think anything could help my understand this? This wasn’t something you could just explain away.

    “Go into the forest,” she told me, “there’s a clearing on the first right on the path. You’ll forgive me once you see that clearing.” She sounded sincere, as though she genuinely wanted my forgiveness, but I wasn’t ready to let go of my grief yet.

    Twenty years, and I’m finally ready to forgive her. I’ll go to the clearing and I’ll finally understand.

    Reply
    1. 

       Matthew

       December 16, 2019

       Compelling storytelling! You really feel the emotions of these characters, their driving feelings and motivations. It’s clear, it’s effective! I thought that the resolution was a bit weak. You don’t really find out what happened to the protagonists loved one and you don’t really get to know what caused the girl to do those things. It seems awkward to me, but maybe that’s the point?

       Reply
       1. 

          Alexander

          December 16, 2019

          It kinda was the point. When writing this, I didn’t want the readers to be able to empathize with the protagonist, and so I wouldn’t let them know what happened. The resolution is mostly weak because of the word limit.

          Reply
    2. 

       Madelyn

       December 16, 2019

       I love that it has an open-ended conclusion. The way it was written made it seem like I was watching a movie, and I could feel the emotions this perspective character felt when confronting their sister. If you ever find a way to continue this story, I look forward to reading it.

       Reply
    3. 

       Twangyflame0

       December 16, 2019

       I really enjoyed this piece, especially the mystery behind it. Leaving it open-ended was a great call and adds more to the mystery of this forest. I so desperately want to know what happened, but I guess I can come to my own conclusions with this story. Very well done.

       Reply
    4. 

       Will Morrow

       December 16, 2019

       I thought the opening was really strong and I liked the distinct sense of mystery surrounding the forest and strange sentience that you had given it but I feel the ending was weaker in this regard as the underlying issue is that by the end we don’t actually know anything more about the forest than we did in the start and I feel as though it should have ended as the protagonist entered the forest so you could vaguely allude to its nature whilst maintaining its sense of mystery, overall pretty good though and I really liked how you showed the protagonists confusing emotions by describing so many so quickly to the point it feels as though they don’t know how to feel.

       Reply
       1. 

          Alexander

          December 16, 2019

          I agree, but the word limit put me in a tough spot. I decided to keep it this way, and rewrite the ending to be longer and better here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1qXq6SqVichmP2apLtyigyDEYrYObBBl2bxdj0GDCURc/edit?usp=sharing

          Reply
    5. 

       elisabethwise

       December 16, 2019

       Woah, this is so cool!!! This feels like a piece of a much larger story, and I’m interested to see how it all fits in. I’m not sure what ‘she’ did, perhaps she killed a mutual loved one of the narrators because she was prompted by the forest? There’s a lot of questions I have about this, and I hope you explore this story in future prompts, friend. Amazing job!!!

       Reply
    6. 

       Rebecca Lomax

       December 16, 2019

       I love this!

       It feels like part of a longer story and it leaves me wanting more in a good way. This works as a short story by itself but it could also be much longer.

       I also like how little we know about the point of view character while still being able to understand their grief. Are they the murdered person’s sibling, parent, guardian, soulmate or something else? We don’t know but we know they loved the man/boy who was killed.

       The murder is just as mysterious. All we know is that she is female and she loved him. Was she engaged to him, where they brother and sister, was she his mother or something else? We only know she felt she had to do it.

       Mostly, I want to know why everyone else just accepts ‘the forest made her do it,’ as a reasonable answer.

       Reply
       1. 

          Alexander

          December 16, 2019

          Bold of you to assume it was murder 😉

          Reply
    7. 

       E. M. Mitra

       December 17, 2019

       It is an interesting piece and I want to see more of it. Surely, the word limit is the only reason why the ending felt lackluster and given more words, I believe that it could have a good or even a great ending that brings justice to the good start.

       Reply
    8. 

       Cain (DarkBlur2005)

       December 18, 2019

       oh, yes, this one is good. I love the characterisation, the way you word everything so that the reader is unaware of who “he” is, and what exactly was done to him is also left unclear, the way you word it so that everyone other then our protagonist seems to understand that the “Forest” was the single guiding force behind “her” actions, and the way so much is left to mystery. Great job here, friend!

       Reply
32. 

    C. G.

    December 16, 2019

    The Talking Flowers – C. G.

    “The forest can change you.” Thats what my grandmother used to say, and I always listened. It might have been the way she said it, maybe intuition, but either way I never ignored her vague warning.
    I only wish I could say the same for my little brother.

    We used to always go up and visit her every year, my grandma’s little cabin in the mountains. It was quite and peaceful, just big enuph for the family to get together. She used to call my cousins and I her “little munchkins”, when ever she told us stories.

    One day, she told us a story, of flowers that talked, and after the story my brother insisted that he wanted, Needed, to see them. I warned him that he’d get into trubble, or get hurt, or lost, “Come with me then” is all he replied as he pushed into the thick bushes.
    I stayed.

    He came back latter that eavning, and was chided by everyone, our parents, aunts, uncles, me. Not grandma though. She just stared at him, muttering under her breath, then left for her room. Throughout it all, he just stood there, making fake apologies, saying he was alright, and asking to leave.

    When we had gotten to bed, I asked if he had found the flowers, and he sudenly seemed to come alive again.
    “Yes! Yes! They where even more beautiful then grandma said! And they told me amazing things! Things about the forest!”
    There was a puase, I was started by his sudden animation.
    “Would you like to know?”
    I nodded slowly
    “Well then you have to talk with them for your self!” He said, getting an almost hungry look in his eye

    I shook my head, “That’s how you got into trouble, why would I go and do that?”
    “You have to go!” He yelled, jumping at me. I jumped back, concerned. He just glared at me, then I noticed, his pupils… Had changed. Taken one some sort of feline shape, and he seemed to be looking past me, only hatred behind his gaze. “No.” I told him, and left to go get my grandma.

    When we got back, he was gone, and my grandma left, and told my parents. I never saw my brpther again. Although, whenever I visit the cabin, I can still hear his voice, beckoning me into the woods. I see cats eyes, watching me from the corner of my eyes, and feel a breath down my back.

    Reply
    1. 

       Alexander

       December 16, 2019

       This is a really good story, and I like how easily this would fit into a much longer story. The use of “trubble” instead of “trouble” is probably a typo, but I’d like to know why if it isn’t.

       Reply
    2. 

       Matthew

       December 16, 2019

       This almost feels like a traditional tale or a folk story It’s something children would be read before bed to get them to obey their elders wishes. It drives home the message that the wisdom of the elders must be listened to by younger generations which is a theme present in many similar style and period pieces. Cool take on the prompt!

       you crafted the piece well!

       Reply
    3. 

       Madelyn

       December 16, 2019

       I love it when a bit of horror mixes with genres not commonly associated with it. It’s not a common experience, and that’s what makes it exciting. I also have to applaud how you wrote it in a way that didn’t quite reveal that dash of horror until the brother tried to take the perspective character to see the flowers. Aside from a few spelling errors, this was a solid piece.

       Reply
    4. 

       Philip C.

       December 16, 2019

       So, I have to ask. Is the spelling due to translation? This story is very good, and I love the Tale from the Brothers Grimm feel that it has to it, but you have multiple spelling errors throughout, so I just wanted to know if this was due to you translating it into English. The viewpoint of the child watching the strange things happen to his brother was a good choice for this kind of story, and the ending with the idea that he still hears his brother’s call to see the flowers has a very faerie tale feel to it, with the horror of what magic can do to a person. Great job over all.

       Reply
    5. 

       elisabethwise

       December 16, 2019

       I love this! It reads a bit like a fairytale, complete with grandma’s house in the mysterious forest. This is a very solid piece of microfiction, and I could definitely see it as a fully realized novella. I wonder what happened to the brother when he talked to the flowers? I can’t wait to read more from you, my friend. Superb job!!!

       Reply
    6. 

       Rebecca Lomax

       December 16, 2019

       I love this story! It reminds me of Goblin Market by Christina Rossetti. Though that story has a happier ending.

       “We must not look at goblin men,
       We must not buy their fruits:
       Who knows upon what soil they fed
       Their hungry thirsty roots?”

       This story feels like it could fit right into local folklore.

       There are a few spelling mistakes. It should say ‘He came back *later* that *evening*,’ ‘talk with them for *yourself*’ and ‘Taken *on* some sort of feline shape.’

       Other than that, the story is really good.

       Reply
    7. 

       NHyde

       December 17, 2019

       Nice, starts out kinda cute then twist and plunge and shudder.

       Reply
    8. 

       Cain (DarkBlur2005)

       December 18, 2019

       Quite spooky, and thematic. I quite like it! Good job!

       Reply
    9. 

       D.W. Fitzgerald

       December 19, 2019

       I quite like this one. It invokes a sort of oral fable tradition, like a story passed down as a cautionary tale to children and skewed over generations to be more fantastical. It is pretty sinister that the grandmother planted the idea of the flowers in their heads in the first place, especially if she knew the forest was dangerous in a metaphysical sense.

       Reply
    10. 

        S. P.

        December 19, 2019

        This story is super chilling, and I liked it. I absolutely want to know what happened to the brother and grandma. What do these flowers do? There’s a whole novel here. Of course, the mystery is what makes it chilling and intriguing. We can only guess what the flowers said to the brother.

        Reply
    11. 

        LumiKat117

        December 27, 2019

        Very eerie and certainly leaves a lot of questions to the reader. What did the flowers say? How did they change the younger brother? Did something else do it and for what purpose? Overall it’s got a great level of ‘What the hell is happening?’ and not in a way that suggests poor writing, but more of I want to know more about this world and learn how and why the brother was changed and just what exactly does the grandmother know. Why is she living in this area if it could lead to her family members being corrupted in a way by the very forest she warns them of?

        Reply
33. 

    Will Morrow

    December 16, 2019

    “Harsh love” by Will Morrow
    This forest changes you they say, through it’s stinging branch’s that drip with mild acid. A forest is a forest no matter how it may appear, but this one feels different. The air is bitter and cold here all year round and the trees, as biting as it may be, offer a sweetly stinging sap that warms you as it burns, wrapping themselves around you like a mother would her child.

    This forest changes you they say, through its horridly twisted form. It’s leaves are a stone cold blue, they are dead and rotten and foetid and wrong and yet they hold a strange kind of dark majesty, a terrible wonder that can only be seen when you look past the decay and see the life that blossoms from within.

    This forest changes you I’d say, it holds you tightly and tries not to let you leave. A forest is a forest but this is alive, it grabs and hugs and it mourns at a loss with its tears of morning dew upon one such as me leaving it be and walking away without a goodbye. Trees get lonely, being rooted in the ground, unable to move around to talk to those they know are there as their roots touch so slightly with eager curiosity and hopeful despair and so teach a harsh love they must endure.

    With life you must cut your loses and take victories where you can, see past your peers visage to see who they are and cherish them for it because there is nothing worse than isolation caused by the deeply ingrained roots of ignorance, pride or despair. This is the forests lesson, that is how it changes you.

    Reply
    1. 

       Alexander

       December 16, 2019

       I liked the tone of the story, but I got caught at a few points while reading because you used the contraction “it’s”, for it is, instead of “its”, being possessive. It’s just one of those grammar things that really makes a difference in how it’s read.

       Reply
    2. 

       Gabriel Tallent

       December 16, 2019

       How wonderfully uplifting and macabre. This feels strangely Golgari, if you’ll excuse the MTG reference, The interconnectedness of nature, even in the form of scavengers and decomposers. this is a piece on the subject of feeling, on life, and I feel, it is beautiful. It feels well-paced and the repetition sends home that this is a story of this man experience the world, with us with him.

       Reply
    3. 

       Twangyflame0

       December 16, 2019

       I really enjoyed this piece. How the macabre is inviting and lonely. I also like the message at the end, comparing the roots of a tree to the roots of the human mind that makes not appreciate life as we have it. Very well done.

       Reply
    4. 

       elisabethwise

       December 16, 2019

       Such a lovely message here! I love all the imagery of the different aspects of the forest, and the narrator’s experience walking through. I wonder if this forest holds some kind of magic inside? Or perhaps the nature of the forest (pun intended) allows people to experience such deep reflection and realization? Either way, this was a lovely read and I’m excited to see more of your work! Great job, my friend!!!

       Reply
    5. 

       NHyde

       December 17, 2019

       Fucking sweet. Great text, surprisingly moving indeed.

       Reply
    6. 

       Cain (DarkBlur2005)

       December 18, 2019

       I love this story! From the way that you describe everything, to the themes, to the deep overall meaning of this piece, everything about it, I love! I believe that you should write stories like this often, and that people attempting to write stories of a similar caliber should take note of it when they write. Good job!

       Reply
    7. 

       Michael Cain

       December 20, 2019

       Lovely choice of words, a calm and dark mood, and each sentence feels like a whisper. But it’s not a scene or a moment. More of a impression earned from a previous, longer journey. Liked how you moved from the traveler’s POV to that of the forest itself. That it is lonely. That was quite moving.

       Reply
    8. 

       Jen Armitage

       December 20, 2019

       Maybe outlining the point of the story at the end takes away from the ambiguity of the rest of the forest’s description. A better way to wrap up may have been to describe someone with those changes rather than spell them out? There are some minor grammar errors, but that’s just what happens when you’re excited to write.

       Reply
34. 

    Ben.J

    December 16, 2019

    “Reflection” by Ben.J
    The Forest can be a peaceful place, one of calm and relaxation. The Forest can be a thrilling place, crossing falling logs across small streams.
    More than anything The Forest can be a reflective place, you see yourself within The Forest. Sometimes you don’t like what you see in the forest. Sometimes you simply stop in The Forest. Sometimes you enter The Forest one person, and leave another. Sometimes The Forest will change you. And the next time you go you might like your reflection a little more.

    Reply
    1. 

       Margaret Couplet

       December 16, 2019

       I like the repitition that you’ve employed and the lyrical nature of the piece. I also like the fact that you gave the story a more hopeful turn. The capititalization on The Forest was a nice touch but you’ve forgotten it in one of the sentences and the first sentence of the second paragraph feels a bit clunky to me but I like the over all feel and the way the story flows.

       Reply
    2. 

       Alexander

       December 16, 2019

       I like the pacing, and it has a really good theme. I kinda wish it was longer, perhaps with a character going into “The Forest” and experiencing this.

       Reply
    3. 

       Gabriel Tallent

       December 16, 2019

       A bit short, but interesting enough. While it isn’t a story, it is still an interesting statement on the nature of a forest in terms of symbols. I feel it use an actual narrative, rather then just stating the use of the forest as a positive symbol in actual narrative.

       Reply
    4. 

       elisabethwise

       December 16, 2019

       This is so cute!! It’s very short and very simply put, and I love it. The take on this prompt is also very interesting. I like how the narrator implies that a walk through the forest is a good thing for the reader. Maybe we should all take that advice! Great job, friend!!

       Reply
    5. 

       NHyde

       December 17, 2019

       Agreed it is cute. Happy thoughts.

       Reply
    6. 

       E. M. Mitra

       December 17, 2019

       Shorter than short, optimistic, easy to digest. I like the piece because it is an easy read; the repetition of the words “The Forest” for me didn’t come out as cheesy or cringy, instead, it felt smooth.
       Although I could see the prose side of it, I also sense a bit of poetry in it. A mixture of both isn’t bad and I think this piece did mixing both good.

       Reply
    7. 

       Cain (DarkBlur2005)

       December 18, 2019

       I quite like this one. Short, meaningful and easy to read. Good job!

       Reply
    8. 

       Jen Armitage

       December 20, 2019

       I see what you were trying to do with the repetition, but maybe a little less of it would have been more in this case. Great imagery though! Also, not sure the capitalization on it was really necessary. The message overall was positive and I like how you show the reflective qualities.

       Reply
    9. 

       Joseph myles

       December 23, 2019

       Nice take on the prompt but I think it would be better told as an experience

       Reply
    10. 

        S. D. Field

        December 27, 2019

        The very best thing about this is that it seems to be one of the select few submissions that managed to convey a point without even approaching the word count. More of a summary of a theme than a story, but still of high writing quality. The best part is the ambiguity of the reflective nature of the forest without excessive optimism or pessimism. As phenomena of natural causes are wont to be it just is, outside of the good-bad spectrum.
        Exceedingly fine.

        Reply