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Jamal Robinson's avatar

Damn! This was powerful Miguel 😮‍💨

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Miguel S.'s avatar

Dropping the hard stuff over here :)

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Jennifer Peaslee's avatar

The armies faced one another: one side filled with grim faces, while the other, larger soldiers chuckled among themselves.

Yet, the smaller soldiers did not lose faith. When the battle began, they fought valiantly.

And with a final mighty tug, the fifth-grade girls pulled the boys’ team over the line.

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Jeannine's avatar

Go, fifth grade girls! 👍

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olivia s's avatar

Microfiction - 50mg of a War

===

Every day is as normal as it can be.

It started so subtly.

More empty desks. More abandoned lockers.

Even the reception desk was unattended.

Before we knew it, the ‘different’ ones were gone.

Soon, they will revise their corporate profile page.

Like changing the pictures and editing out ‘diversity’.

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olivia s's avatar

This is a good one, a hidden domestic war.

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Miguel S.'s avatar

Yup.

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Ali's avatar

War and pizza - what more could people ask for? Why even bother with your video games when you can watch from the comfort of your own settee? Of course it's not real - course it isn't!

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Rolando Andrade's avatar

First, they arrived on foot, dozens of them. Then on horseback, by the thousands. Now, on foot, by car, inside tanks and trucks, flying airplanes. Later, they lost their immunity to hate, pain and war. Then they pressed a button. They were vaporized. This is the brief history of humanity.

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Selena Brown's avatar

Makes me wonder just how far we are and if anyone would dare push that button again. :/

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Rananda | The Ink Rat's avatar

50mg of War

Simon exchanges daily war stories with colleagues in the office—all chest thumping bravado and one-upmanship.

Friday nights, he impresses attractive women with wild stories—all flamboyant gestures and peacocking romance.

Yet Simon finds peace in nature every Saturday. In the silence, he finds deep thought and, finally, his story.

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Miguel S.'s avatar

Thanks for joining in !

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Rananda | The Ink Rat's avatar

Thank you for creating this magnificent micro-fiction haven! And for letting us all take part! It's great!

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Theresa Greene's avatar

We are at war with a squatter

He thinks he has won the lotter-

Re:he doesn't own the land

We are doing all we can

But he says he will move

But he don't

We say we will take action

But we won't

His camper has been there

For over three months

Guess we will have to punt

and call the law

To end it all!

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Theresa Greene's avatar

Thank you ,Ke6

🙂

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Theresa Greene's avatar

Thank you Scott and Miguel !

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Rananda | The Ink Rat's avatar

What a brilliant poem! Very clever.

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Theresa Greene's avatar

Thank you, Ink Rat,😉

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Theresa Greene's avatar

Thank you, Jeannine 😊

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Bill Ferguson 🇨🇦's avatar

The staff sergeant looked at his recruits. “We are at war. You have to be field ready in 7 days. This time, aim for the target.”

He examined the targets and groaned. “Perhaps shooting from windows in urban warfare was more their style,” he ruminated. “Spraying streets seemed about right.”

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Lia's avatar

WAR (50)

News of the attack was on the radio Sunday night. Monday morning, she went with him to the Navy recruiting office to sign the papers allowing a 17-year old boy to fight for his country.

“Don’t worry, Mom,” he said.

Later, they sent her a gold star for the window.

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Keith Long's avatar

War 50 words

The flower wars started with the geraniums. Cynthia, that trollop on the corner, she never cared for gardening, but of course when the HOA put on the contest, well, she spruced up her garden with those rotten geraniums. They smelled awful, like patchouli, and soon enough every house had them.

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Sandra Novelly's avatar

The war: was it about eggs, or was it about fearing those who were different from them?

Was it truly about age vs. sex or was it about "owning the libs?"

Was it between good and evil, or was it about mirroring one’s own darkness.

It was about choice.

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Sarah Christensen's avatar

The ants, a long, dark line, carry bites of my garden into their underground lair. My chances are slim, of course, but I’ve never been one to give in. Meticulously I sprinkle poison granules on the ground like carpet bombs. War is war, and I am an army of one.

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Ini's avatar

50mg of War.

They huddle in the corner of an abandoned shop, surrounded by the remnants of the moment disaster struck. The sound of machine guns and war gets closer and the mother, tears in the corner of her eyes, gently silences her little one and covers his ears with her hands.

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Zivah Avraham's avatar

War. So many possible interpretations. Here’s mine.

Thank you, Miguel. I’m struggling with writing at the moment. Your prompts are saving me.

—————

LEADEN

The airless room hummed with it.

It should have been alive, energy bouncing off the nicotine walls, the foxed mirror, the cracked sink.

It was leaden. The only thing moving was the counterpane, shuddering with the uneven rise and fall of her laboured breathing.

Cancer. Winning the war.

Mother.

Losing.

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Miguel S.'s avatar

That’s awesome Zivah! A couple words a day are more than nothing :) Any particular reason why you might be struggling?

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Zivah Avraham's avatar

Thank you!

Health issues, mostly. I have MS (multiple sclerosis) and it’s been making its presence felt lately. It will pass, it’s just frustrating and very tiring. Thank you for checking in, though.

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Rhumond Tonique's avatar

50 words on "war"

Grabbing the hedge clippers, he marched to the back yard and began pruning. Shortly, he felt a sting around his ankles and then more, fire ants swarming his leg. He ran to the garage for the spray and went back out. “I'm going to kill you all. This is war!”

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