Writing Group: Yet the Sun Rises (PRIVATE)

Hello everyone!

Where I am, it’s winter. Yes, pretty white fluffies from the sky and excuses to do the warm things. Chocolate abounds. Dazzling light globes. Festivalities. But also! Abysmally short days, mornings I wish not to face, a dry cold which leeches into the bones and stays there, illness in every throat, the long spiral into seasonal depression.

It can be a difficult time of year.

Fortunately, it looks like I’m in for a reminder that things do in fact get better, because…

This week’s prompt is:

 

Yet the Sun Rises

 

RULES AND GUIDELINES HAVE CHANGED!
Make sure you scroll down and read them if you haven’t! You may not be eligible if you don’t!

 

As you dive into this, keep in mind that this prompt, like most, is much broader than it may at first seem. Really, the only two parts of this prompt to honor are: 1. Literally anything which a “sunrise” could represent, including hope, joy, love, etc., and 2. Something for your “sunrise” to exist in spite of.

So by and large, these are going to be stories about something sunrise-worthy arising in an unexpected place. Important distinction, though: this is YET the sun rises, not The Sun Rose Anyway. So rather than writing a lazarus story about someone dead coming back to life, maybe consider a story of acceptance, where death isn’t defeated, yet the characters are able to find happiness anyway.

Now go forth, all of you, and bring me a sunrise in this season of darkness!

 

 

Remember, this is part of our weekly Writing Group stream! Submit a little piece following the rules and guidelines below, and there’s a chance your entry will be read live on stream! In addition, we’ll discuss it for a minute and give you some feedback.

Tune into the stream this Friday at 7:00pm CST to see if you made the cut!

The whole purpose of this is to show off the creativity of the community, while also helping each other to become better writers. Lean into that spirit, and get ready to help each other improve their confidence in their writing, as well as their skill with their craft!

 

Rules and Guidelines

We read six stories during each stream, three of which come from the public post, and three of which come from the much smaller private post. 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!

  • English only.
  • Prose only, no poetry or lyrics.
  • One submission per participant.
  • Use proper spelling, grammar, and syntax.
  • Submit your entry in a comment on this post.
  • Submissions close at 4:00pm CST each Friday.
  • No more than 350 words (you can use this website to see your wordcount).
  • Include a submission title and an author name (doesn’t have to be your real name).
  • Keep submissions “safe-for-work”; be sparing with sexuality, violence, and profanity.
  • Write something brand new (no re-submitting past entries or stories written for other purposes).
  • Try to focus on making your submission a single meaningful moment rather than an entire story.
  • No fan fiction without explicit permission from the source’s owner, and no spoilers for the source material.
  • Please format your submission as “Submission Title” by Author Name and be sure to separate paragraphs. (Example Submission)
  • Original art may be included in your submission, but is not guaranteed to be shown on stream. Only .jpeg format images shared via a direct link will be accepted. (Example Submission) (Information on “Direct Links”)
  • You must like and leave a review on two other submissions to be eligible, and your reviews must be at least 50 words long. If you’re submitting to the private post, feel free to leave these reviews on either the private or the public post. The two submissions you like need not be the same as the submissions you review, although they can be.
  • Understand that by submitting here, you are giving us permission to read your submission aloud live on stream and upload public, archived recordings of said stream to our social media platforms. You will always be credited, but only by the author name you supply as per these rules. No other links or are guaranteed.

Comments on this post that aren’t submissions will be deleted, except for replies/reviews left on existing submissions.

 

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Gage Jarman
Gage Jarman
4 months ago

Dawning on him
by Gage Jarman

He held her softly, softly because he knew he did not have the right to do anything more. He knew her agency wasn’t up to him, even if it hurt. He felt the expansion of her chest, rhythmically rising and falling, peaceful like the cresting sea. He wondered what he would do, should he beg her, how could he not fight a little for the love of his life… yet, that would only cause her grief, and surely she must be hurting as he is. Does she have the same rock in her gut, that sinks randomly throughout the day, causing shortness of breath. Tears welled up in his wistful eyes, and he squeezed her tight.
“Ugh, babe what are you doing.” She looked over her shoulder with a half glazed glance.
“Oh uh sorry, I was just thinking.” He let out a weak laugh.
“Do you want to talk about it.” She furrowed her brow.
“No,no, that’s alright. Get some sleep. Tomorrow’s gonna be long.” He said.
“Ok… just don’t stay up too late.” She kissed his cheek. She rolled back over, and so did he.
He wanted to hold her again, as if that could suddenly change something, but he kept his back against hers, feeling warmth radiate out of her where there soon would be none. He stared at the dark cobalt wall, tracing the shadows of blinds, trying to keep his mind occupied. The night seemed unending, but eventually, the sun would rise and that would be it.
A part of him refused this reality, still searching for some solution. He was scared of the pain. He had become comfortable with her cheeky grin, the dumb jokes she made, how her steps bounced when she was excited, how she held him quietly to quell her insecurities. He didn’t want to get out of this bed. He didn’t want that absence because even though she was leaving to the other end of the country, right now, at least for right now, he could still touch her. She was still his, if only for tonight.

Lily/Spiderlily
Lily/Spiderlily
4 months ago

Community by Lily/Spiderlily

I stared out into the smoking wreckage that used to be our home. The entire neighborhood looked desolate, like something out of a movie.

“Mommy?” The little voice stole my attention.

I turned to see my little girl tugging at my belt loop. Her face was red, swollen and stained from a long bout of crying, but it looked like she was finally done with that now. I hoped mine wasn’t stained. I hoped I hadn’t been crying while I soaked in my loss. I tried for my best smile and asked, “Yes, dear, what’s the problem?”

My little girl rubbed her swollen eyes. “I’m hungry.” She said.

My gut wrenched. My smile fell before I could stop it. Our entire kitchen had been destroyed when the bomb dropped. Where was I going to get breakfast now?

I looked up, searching for an answer across the debris, and saw a figure waving from a distance. Waving at me? My son had seen him too and looked back to answer my unspoken question. “I think it’s Dad.”

My husband was waving us toward him now. I picked up our daughter and took our son by the hand then led them up to their father standing high on the distant hill. His silhouette warmed my worry-cramped stomach. The smile that I could see once his features became cleared warmed me even more. “We’re all over here.” He said, taking our daughter from my arms as she reached for him.

The smell of bacon permeated the air. “Someone made breakfast?” I asked, my voice weaker than I expected.

My husband turned and pointed down the hill. “We scavenged what we could from any kitchen left standing.” I looked where he had directed and saw a group of familiar faces, friends and neighbors, circling around a fire pit. Not everyone was there, but there were survivors, there was food, and there was enough of us left to rebuild. I tried my best not to cry as we made our way down the hill.

revisis
revisis
4 months ago

“Dawn of Victory” Submitted By Exce

They all felt it.

Magic rushed across the planet, to punish those that had conquered it.

The spell filled the skies with white fire, casting down any Angel it came across, clipping their wings for the war they raged, the tyranny they upheld.

Proving once again, no matter how long the night may be, dawn will come and the sun will rise again.

On the other side of the ocean, in the wild lands of Moriesha, two figures looked up through the canopy of leaves.

A soft smile spread over the man’s lips, relief and old pain heavy on his voice.
“He did it. The boy finally did it! After so long…” His eyes were distant, as if he was seeing something beyond the trees.

Next to him stood a woman with fiery hair, clad in a red-orange summer dress. She had an aura around her that could make seasoned warriors and ruthless beasts freeze in their tracks.
“Indeed. There were many ways for this war to end.” Her two-coloured eyes watched as the wave of magic passed over them. “I am glad this future was the one to come true.”

The man nodded. His bare arms were marred with old scars and the armor he wore seemed to be made up from many materials fused together.

“Then at last, our plan has come to fruition, after four and a half centuries.”

She smiled. “Now the world may know peace again.”

Suddenly her eyes narrowed, flicking around as she saw something her husband couldn’t. But he could guess.

“Save those spared from being torn apart by a mob, they deserve redemption.”

She gave him a smile “Don’t get yourself in trouble while I’m gone William.”

William laughed as she placed the helmet onto her head, fire glinting off its metal.

The dress changed to her usual armor and tabard, hiding her bicoloured skin and leaving her eyes as glowing spots of red and blue.

William smiled at her as she began to levitate up into the air, watching as his wife speed off to do her duty as a goddess.

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Brick
Brick
4 months ago

Real Bonds
by Brickosaur

Let me tell you about this dream I had.

I’m driving around the desert in one of those open-air Jeeps when I see someone standing alone in the sand. She seems . . . so scared. And obviously lost.

Well, I obviously can’t just /leave/ her. I hold out my hand. She can come live with me. She agrees, and because dream logic, we’re instantly back home.

Days pass in the dream, almost like a training montage. It’s a lot of quick moments of me and my new friend making breakfast together, walking through gardens, talking to neighbors. Just . . . learning each other.

Who knows how long all that takes in real life, but in the dream it’s long enough to form genuine bonds with this person. She’s become a sister to me, and I will protect her with /everything./

One morning we’re sitting on the edge of her bed, talking. She has news — exciting news!

But I never get to hear it, because something thumps in the real world and wakes me. I bolt upright. There’s that second of /huh?/ And then I realize:
I’ve been asleep.

It’s morning. The sun is /so/ bright coming through the blinds. It’s time to get up.

NO!

I throw myself back on the pillow, squeeze my eyes shut; maybe if I’m fast enough I can hit play on the dream! Maybe I can —

It’s too late.
I’m fully awake.
My friend — my /sister/ — is gone
forever.

Pure grief just /whams/ through me. I’m never gonna see her again! And she wasn’t even /here,/ so there’s nothing to bury. But the memories are just as real as anything I’ve done awake, and they /hurt./

I wish I could return to that world. My dream self always thinks it’ll go on forever. But the sun rises on its own time, and it always pulls me out.

We can’t check on the clock while we’re dreaming.

And we never know when we’re gonna wake up.

Hey, I think I’m gonna wrap up here and scoot. I’ve, uh, I’ve got some people I want to go hang out with.

Connor/Dragoneye
Connor/Dragoneye
4 months ago

“The Witch’s Passion” Submitted by Connor/Dragoneye

“Carileph.”

The half-elf turned to the voice calling his name, only to run towards the spectral form of Sylhana.

“Hana, is that you?” Carileph asked, tears streaming down his face. He reached for his betrothed’s hand, only for it to pass through her. “It’s been days. What happened to you?”

“The Deep, it consumed me. I thought I would be fine, but that mind flayer was right.” Sylhana gazed longingly in Carileph’s eyes, brushing her hand across his cheek, despite her current status. “I know you’re scared.”

Kneeling before Hana, Carileph’s heartbreak continued to stream from his eyes, and every part of his body ached in sorrow.

“I think I have a solution.”

Carileph perked up at her words. “Are you sure it’ll work? How long will it take?”

“I don’t know, but it’s worth a try. Just… stay with me, honey.” She plunged her hand into her chest, underneath her ribcage. As she reached around inside her body, Carileph protested, “Hana, what are you doing?”

Sylhana revealed her hand, clutching her heart. “Here,” she said, gesturing Carileph to imitate grasping the heart.

“Repeat after me.”

“Why?”

“Just trust me, dear.”

Carileph nodded as Sylhana spoke in Elvish, with her husband following. “Upon this seal of arcanum, my vestige of love, do I swear upon a pact with you. No matter the shackle, the passion within my heart will remain as yours. I swear that my undying love unto you will keep us together, beyond plane and hearth.”

As the final words were uttered, Sylhana’s shape grew more corporeal, and she collapsed into Carileph’s arms. “Cari, I’m here.”

Her heart remained between both of their hands. It lacked a beat, but Sylhana was there, alive. And that was all that mattered.

Margaret Couplet
Margaret Couplet
4 months ago

Sunrise by Margaret Couplet

Z stared at the sunrise, at the beautiful mural of pink and gold that spread across the horizon like ink in water. Her hands were shaking around her blades, her legs trembling as muscles tried to give out.

The smell of death was in the air, layered with the pungent odor of rotting blood and feted meat in a cocktail that made Z want to gag. There were bodies by her feet, some of them still breathing in that short, stuttering way that spoke of death approaching on silent feet.

She looked around, trying to find the rest of her team. They’d all been standing when the moon had gone down but that had been a while ago, the darkness of predawn consuming her senses, blinding her to anything but the next walking corpse.

Those moments had been Hell, the uncertainty of the shadows creeping into her vision. The wait of moon set to sunrise always was, the dread that she’d be trapped there until she died…

Until she rose…

“Feyra! You still up!” The other woman wasn’t in Z’s line of sight.

“I’m up!” A deep voice called back and Z turned.

Feyra was still on her feet, wavering slightly in the aftermath of the battle but still standing nonetheless. She’d lost her blades and the cloth covering her eyes was askew but her fire balm pot was still hanging from her belt.

Z relaxed, she’d used her own fire early in the night when Crow had gone down under a wave of Darkborn and she’d seen Glory use his barely ten minutes ago. Crow couldn’t use fire balm, so Feyra was the only one left to do the honors.

“It dawn?” Feyra asked.

“Yup,” Crow called from somewhere in the trees, “light em’ up!”

Feyra didn’t hesitate and Z bolted out of the way as she downed the contents of the jar. She didn’t have the energy to curse Crow out as she barely avoided the gout of fire the other woman breathed out, turning the bodies on the ground to ash in a matter of seconds.

Hattie
Hattie
4 months ago

(I SHOULD NOT HAVE BEEN ABLE TO POST HERE AS I AM UNABLE TO SUPPORT THIS MONTH, I WILL RESUBMIT THE STORY IN THE RIGHT PLACE)

gregovin
gregovin
4 months ago

Gregovin – “Regression”

This was the big fight, the fight to keep the magic alive. I was doing my best to redirect the projectiles from the overseers away from the core. Rayna was reducing the number of overseers. The core was emitting a bright light, and this light was visibly bending while any other observer would have seen my eyes glowing green. I was bending space and time with the power of gravity to defend the core. I could see how each bend would affect the projectiles, barely noticing the lush forest that surrounded the large crater made by the overseers. The fact that I had been able to keep them at bay this long was impressive, but they slowly got closer and without Rayna they would have long ago overrun our defenses. She was using her sword and her new innate magical ability and strength to fight the powerful adversary, and was slowly getting rid of them. It would be close. A stray rock hit the core, the overseers froze, and my magic stopped. We failed. I failed. The sun would yet rise tomorrow, but humanity’s hopes would be dashed. Magic had come into this world providing it with hope, and now that was gone. Rayna looked like she was about to break down in tears when I remembered the designs for the reactor and the nanobot, and though they were incomplete they could easily get us to the stars. Maybe we did not need magic. Maybe we could create our own hope. The reactor would be capable of providing humans with cheap power and the nanobot could give us immortality. I pulled the parchment out of my backpack and showed it to Rayna, and she still cried, but by now we had hope. I drove an exhausted and hungry Rayna into town and found a Chipotle, and gathered the network of people who would be humanity’s new hope.

elisabethwise
elisabethwise
4 months ago

“Eurydice Rising” Submitted by: elisabethwise

The sun had begun its slow ascent, tinting the sky in shades of orange and yellow. Along the skyline, thin smokestacks belched purple clouds. Too early for much traffic, at least not in this part of town, but the occasional car zipped by. Billie shuddered, zipped her sweater up, braced against the chilly early-morning wind; her Doc Martens maintained a steady pace down the sidewalk as she lit another cigarette. Her girlfriend, Paula, was a nice girl, she really was, but her ma was a real stink. Kicked Billie out of the house at five in the morning for, in her screeching words, “blaspheming with my daughter under my roof”. What a gal.

“Jeez, Mrs. Carter,” Billie thought aloud to herself, punted a rock into the road. “We were only kissing. You ain’t never seen people kiss before?”

She shook the memory out of her head. Whatever. Didn’t matter. A new day had dawned, time to leave last night alone. That was her philosophy: one foot in the past, one foot in the future, and you’re pissing on today. She never looked back and never looked ahead; too much strife behind her, and too much uncertainty before her. She had the clothes on her back and the money in her wallet. That was more than she had ever had before, and…

A teal pick-up truck had slowed to a stop several yards ahead of her. The passenger-side window rolled down. She turned around; no one behind her. She felt for the switchblade in her back pocket, clutched it with a white-knuckle grip as she approached.

“Do you need a ride somewhere, honey?” The woman behind the steering wheel asked coolly. “It’s not safe for young ladies to be alone out here.”

Billie stared at the woman. Long, dark hair, could be Hispanic, nice figure. She squinted in suspicion. “There’s a neighborhood outside of Fort Stockton. My grandpa lives there. I was going to visit him.”

“I can do that.” The woman unlocked the door. “What’s your name, honey?”

“Billie. What’s yours?”

“Esther. Esther Flagg.”