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Chris J. Franklin's avatar

PROMPT: MORNING

THE LAST STAND

This was it.

The only house left that hadn’t yet been breached.

One final beacon of hope.

Where a few planks of wood nailed across all the windows and doors were all that was keeping everyone inside from joining the ranks of the undead.

The light of the morning would bring safety, a chance for respite and time to fortify the defences further.

But it would be too late by then.

Tonight was the night our horde would descend upon them, and the last remnants of humanity would be turned… 😎

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Jude Mire's avatar

90 words - Prompt: Morning

______________________________

Warmth preceded light as a balmy wind wove through the long darkness. This heated air blew damp patches in the frosted glass, turned the rime-trapped dust into a veneer of grit, and filled the room with an expectant energy.

Morning dawned.

When the actual rays of light arrived, months later, the solar panels drank deep, triggering the re-activation sequences.

A year later, when Lina emerged from her cryogenic capsule, the sun hadn't yet crested the horizon.

They'd survived another millennia night.

She smiled, wondering what the new day would bring.

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olivia s's avatar

Microdosing - 90mg of a Morning

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He woke up, sitting on his bed. The sky was grey with orange stripes. His room and his life were as messy. Never ending thesis revision, impossible deadlines. Was he once one of the top students?

He stood up, took a bottle off the shelf, and poured the contents out.

He returned to his bedside for the water.

Something caught his foot. A magazine’s page, with bold lines: ‘Thank you for being here. The world is becoming a better place with you around.’

He walked to his bin, emptying his handful of pills. The sun had appeared in the sky.

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Miguel S.'s avatar

Awesome work Olivia! The world is darkest just before the sunrise, and the fight isn't over. Love the story.

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olivia s's avatar

Thanks Miguel. This is inspired by a birthday wish. I reckon the lines could be used any day.....not just on birthdays.

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Justin McCulloh's avatar

The slow steady pulses of the machines kept Robert in a world of dreams.

He regained consciousness and the fluttering of his eyes revealed a room accompanied by the music of his heart monitors. “What the hell happened last night?” he thought to himself.

He rushed out of the hospital room and found no one to help him at the front desk. In fact, no one helped him at all. Finally, he opened the doors to the outside world, but found fire and destruction.

Robert is the city's last survivor.

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Miguel S.'s avatar

A great premise and such strong atmosphere. I agree with Mike that sounds like an awesome openning to a bigger piece of work!

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Justin McCulloh's avatar

Thank you ! You both have inspired me to attempt a longer form of this piece . Stay tuned !

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Dec 1
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Justin McCulloh's avatar

I appreciate your kind words, Thank you !

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Jeannine's avatar

My daughter exclaimed, "I hate you, Mommy," stomping off to her room.

I later heard frantic sobbing as I passed her door. I checked on her and she tearfully apologized, "I don't know why I was so mean, I'm horrible!"

"No, hon, you're okay. You just let your emotions run away with you. I'm not angry," I assured her.

"But I shouldn't have said that!"

"Hush, darling, tomorrow's another day. Mornings are for new beginnings. Clean slate, okay?"

"Okay, Mom. I love you."

I smiled. "And I love you, too."

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Miguel S.'s avatar

❤️❤️❤️ Wish to parent like this one day.

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Jeannine's avatar

I wish I could have parented like this every day...

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Richard Blaisdell's avatar

Morning 90.

Tranquill morning,scattered rain with Champagne buzz;penne, pasta with shrimp, clams on the half shell morning elixir. Millennium dispersed Y2K fears. Remember Amsterdam’s Dan Square. Next New Year’s Eve will be Holland. I’ve estranged thoughts. On my way home to Central PK W. See depressed, disillusioned people. My poodle Chi Chi waits. Her collar’s worth a year’s NYC salary. Waiting at Astoria Station. Morning train routine. Rushed sips coffee. I could be skiing. Somethings lost. Youth’s gone crossing the street. Missed appointments; morning’s here. No commitments. Train to JFK.

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Emmy's avatar

The coffee was good, hot and sweet. We'd just left the last of the traffic accident patients at the ER, and were sitting on the low wall near the ambulance parking area finishing up the paperwork.

The sun was just coming up over the horizon with a warm golden glow. It had been one of Those nights, crowned by the three car pileup on the freeway.

No worries though. The shift was almost over and relief would be here at 8. At 745, our pagers go off for another call

We sigh.

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Miguel S.'s avatar

Not all heroes wear capes.

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olivia s's avatar

rough night shift.

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Teyani Whitman's avatar

90 mg morning

The morning was crisp as the north wind blew. Her chair on the breakfast porch was inviting. The blending of cold air while the sun warmed her back was too perfect to express.

Coffee and peanut butter toast tamed the urge to crawl back under the covers.

North winds bring big waves, and carry off the fog. Each tree seemed intricately redrawn by a careful hand.

Racing to get dressed, her spirit called, We must Sail.

Remember to grab the leather gloves, she thought, the sheet will pull fiercely today

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Miguel S.'s avatar

"Her chair on the breakfast porch was inviting. The blending of cold air while the sun warmed her back was too perfect to express." I so want to sit on the porch under a warm blanket now.

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Dylan Delgado's avatar

The faint glow of the northern aurora slowly disappeared as the sun began to peek above the horizon. Its warmth won’t be felt until it clears the trees.

The forest is bustling with life, and I am able to witness this firsthand. Owls flew back into the trees to sleep until nightfall, and squirrels were displaced, aiming to find vittles.

This scene is a beauty to see. I only wish that my friend could witness this with me. He sadly succumbed to the bitter cold last night after getting lost.

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Miguel S.'s avatar

Nice atmosphere, gut punching ending though!

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Scott MacLeod's avatar

When Dave’s young wife died, he didn’t think he could go on. Then his baby daughter saved him with a simple gesture of innocent love. He’d told his brother he was mired in a thicket of grief, then retreated to his chair in the dark study, alone, to nurse another Scotch. Little Amelia entered uncertainly bringing him a frosted pop tart and a juice box of OJ.

“I heard you tell Uncle Pete you were stuck in morning all day long. So I brought you my favorite morning food. Breakfast!”

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Lyndsey Resnick's avatar

Aww…so sweet. Thank you!

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Scott MacLeod's avatar

Thx for reading!

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Arnaly Arriaga Blanco's avatar

I’m melting…!

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Scott MacLeod's avatar

Went mushy today, back to dumb gangsters tomorrow 😊

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K.M. Bennett's avatar

So good. So cute!

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Scott MacLeod's avatar

Thx. I’m a sucker for daughters. And pop tarts.

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Miguel S.'s avatar

😭😭😭 that's sooo cute.

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Scott MacLeod's avatar

Every now and then I need a sappy girl dad story

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Jeannine's avatar

Super sweet!

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Scott MacLeod's avatar

Starting the Christmas mush early 😊

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Scott MacLeod's avatar

Indeed

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Jeannine's avatar

Pop tarts might make great antidepressants... 😉

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Jeannine's avatar

Ho, ho, ho. But kids do sometimes have the ability to take the sting out of life.

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Rolando Andrade's avatar

My 90 mg of a Morning

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Like drops of water slowly falling into the water, the first rays of sunlight slowly wake, interrupting the silence of the crackling trees. One bird wakes up, then another, and another and another, and before long a flock of birds takes flight. The beauty of the world comes together in this heavenly melody that happens every morning.

I see the dawn of day, every day. But for someone, yesterday was the last morning, the last breath. Please visit me tomorrow, when your cells join the first rays of the sun

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Miguel S.'s avatar

Nicely poetic Rolando!

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Rolando Andrade's avatar

Well, I love writing Poetry :)

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Nov 30
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Miguel S.'s avatar

Lmao. Didn't expect that turn.

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Justin McCulloh's avatar

I enjoyed this one!

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Teyani Whitman's avatar

That one phrase…. A poet’s sky… is spectacular.

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