The ostentation gathered at the side of the road. Cocks on one side, hens on the other.
One by one the cocks paraded across the interstate, chests inflated, the sunlight dazzling on rotary blue and emerald green feathers.
When it was Mike’s turn, the smallest of all the peacocks; he puffed his chest out until it ached, until his lungs pressed into his ribs; spread his feathers wide the eyes focused in every direction.
Head held high, he stepped upon the asphalt.
Mike’s feathers drifted on the summer zephyr, cast in all directions. For once, all eyes were upon him.
Mayor Jenkins, draped in accolades, boasted of his spotless city. Unseen, he concealed the homeless in abandoned tunnels. During his grand speech, an earthquake struck. The ground split, revealing the forsaken beneath. As they crawled out, desperate and enraged, Jenkins' pride crumbled, exposing the rot beneath his polished veneer for all to see.
He stands on a grassy knoll taking in the land, his land. Thoughts of the battles he won and the ones that decided to join him. It always brings him joy to see all his young ones playing and wrestling. There are others that are respectful of his territory, contributing to the whole. He is proud of his lion pride.
Pride rose from deep devotion to what was just, proper, and worthy. A patriot’s pride swelled in Charles Coltrane’s 97-year-old chest covered in honored, decorated heroism. He efforted to stand at attention in the Fredericksburg Flag Day ceremony. Tears fell from his weary, intense eyes. His salute was feeble. Tears fell from all, honoring our flag, freedom, and Coltrane’s pride.
Now the question is: does Julia care about the bride's choice of cake? Or was she too absorbed in her cake pride? Or did her pride melt away as she exclaimed: 'Oh No!!! It wasn't red velvet? :('
That was a great short story! And I enjoy your concept of microdosing.
The ostentation gathered at the side of the road. Cocks on one side, hens on the other.
One by one the cocks paraded across the interstate, chests inflated, the sunlight dazzling on rotary blue and emerald green feathers.
When it was Mike’s turn, the smallest of all the peacocks; he puffed his chest out until it ached, until his lungs pressed into his ribs; spread his feathers wide the eyes focused in every direction.
Head held high, he stepped upon the asphalt.
Mike’s feathers drifted on the summer zephyr, cast in all directions. For once, all eyes were upon him.
‘Twas my own damn pride that got me into this.
I dared to give a gentlelady a drink of water when I heard his shout:
“I should have you flogged!”
I should have left, but without thinking I responded:
“It will take more than you to do it!”
I had just challenged the finest swordsman in England to a fight.
Mayor Jenkins, draped in accolades, boasted of his spotless city. Unseen, he concealed the homeless in abandoned tunnels. During his grand speech, an earthquake struck. The ground split, revealing the forsaken beneath. As they crawled out, desperate and enraged, Jenkins' pride crumbled, exposing the rot beneath his polished veneer for all to see.
PRIDE
He stands on a grassy knoll taking in the land, his land. Thoughts of the battles he won and the ones that decided to join him. It always brings him joy to see all his young ones playing and wrestling. There are others that are respectful of his territory, contributing to the whole. He is proud of his lion pride.
“Ten-HUT!” Boots stomped together in such perfect unison it was one sound.
The general regarded: boots polished just so, creases aligned on immaculate trousers, weapons held at the same precise slant.
"Men, we hear a lot about ‘pride’ in these degenerate days. But you alone can take pride in the fact that you safeguard individual freedom.”
Boots stamped as one.
PROMPT: PRIDE
THE HOUSE
I was so proud when my son bought his first house.
He’d carefully planned ahead, stayed focused and had made it happen in an incredibly short amount of time.
In fact, he was so good with money, he was already working out how to buy a second one.
Even at his young age, he was such a great Monopoly player… 😎
I really enjoy the short posts, thank you!
You're welcome! Thank you for being here :)
Pride rose from deep devotion to what was just, proper, and worthy. A patriot’s pride swelled in Charles Coltrane’s 97-year-old chest covered in honored, decorated heroism. He efforted to stand at attention in the Fredericksburg Flag Day ceremony. Tears fell from his weary, intense eyes. His salute was feeble. Tears fell from all, honoring our flag, freedom, and Coltrane’s pride.
Now the question is: does Julia care about the bride's choice of cake? Or was she too absorbed in her cake pride? Or did her pride melt away as she exclaimed: 'Oh No!!! It wasn't red velvet? :('
That was a great short story! And I enjoy your concept of microdosing.
Hi Emilie thank you! Stay tuned, the answers will come during the week. ;
Oops