Teacup Story – Waiting on a Message

Ele did not mourn like everyone else. She simply waited for the text to come in. (Genre – Sci fi, Rating – 15, Warnings: Mentions of Abuse, Death).

Ele sat staring at her phone, waiting for the text to come in.

Around her, chaos reigned. Her parents, the rulers of their Sector, had been murdered in the night. Somehow, someone had managed to get past the security perimeter. Already, the news was breaking across the Sector, screams rose from the streets as the populace began to fear for their very safety. Who had killed their protectors? Who had killed the very people that were supposed to keep them safe? There were rumours that the Tenth Sector down south had a hand in it, but they were off destroying their own uprisings. Some even suggested that it was Peoe, the Second in Command who would now take executive powers to try and smooth over the power vacuum. There was nothing more dangerous in this world than the lack of power. It was bad enough that there were no resources, no food, and barely any space left on the tiny floating raft which kept them alive.

“It’s so awful,” Ele’s nurse, Jacque said, crying to himself. She let him cry, offering no words of support.

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Teacup Story – Smoking Remnants

Smoking Remnants – Ia watches as her village  burns, wanting to seek revenge (Rating: 12, Genre – Fantasy, Genre – Sci Fi, Genre – Action)

Ia looked down on the smoking remains of their village. Even from up here, in the safety of the mountains, she could taste the ash on the air. The anger inside her was deep, she had warned the council that the humans were advancing across their borders and yet they did nothing.

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Teacup Story – The Morning After

The Morning After – It had been a turbulent night. Both for literal and metaphorical reasons. It meant that Helen liked to take a moment to consider where her life was at. (Genre – General, Rating – 15, Warnings: Language)

Helen picked up the glasses from the night before, washing them with a methodical manner which was almost soothing to her cracking hangover.

It was just wine. Wine and a bit of fun. Nothing more.

James was still upstairs, in bed. Helen wasn’t sure what this made them now. She didn’t really want to think about it.

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Teacup Story – Shadows

Shadows – There are parts of your mind that you do not look into. For those shadows hold secrets, and those secrets are fear. (Genre – General, Rating – 12, Warnings – trauma)

Trauma cannot be contained by mere words.

It is deep, a deep instilling memory that is burned onto the back of your mind. It lies in wait, like a shadow, waiting for you to notice it.

And when you do? When you do notice it?

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Teacup Story – One thing at a time

Kae looked down upon the valley below to find some semblance of peace (Rating: PG, Genre – General, Genre – Sci-Fi)

Peace, in whatever its forms, is not something that comes naturally.

It is a quiet moment, an absence of thought, when a person can just exist in that one moment. Time, it seems, only moves forward when you rush and forget that there is an entire world around you, existing, breathing, living.

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Teacup Story – Happy Place

Happy Place – There is one view that will forever be her happy place. (Genre – Free Writing, Rating – PG).

It is cold when she steps out onto the balcony.

The mountain air up here is not a biting cold, it is more gentler than that. It is the cold of memories, a reminder that summer has passed and now winter is drawing in close. It is the cold of a clear sky, with no clouds warming the night air. It is a cold which is calming, soothing, caressing.

She walks towards the chair that sits on the balcony, scraping it across the tile and pulling it to the right space. Over her shoulder are blankets, the only two in the hotel room, which she flings onto the seat so she can wrap herself in their woolly embrace. It will not keep her warm, not for long, but enough for her to enjoy the view.

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Teacup Story – Something, Someone

Something, Someone – Just because it is gone does not mean that it is forgotten (Genre – Angst, Genre – General, Rating – PG)

Just because something, someone, is gone, does not mean that it was worthless.

It is not the end of the memory which decides the content. It is not the closure of the book that decides the story. It is not the bookend that decides what stories are held in the middle of the shelf.

Something might be gone, and you might miss it. You will ache, you will hurt, you will mourn. Someone is gone and you will cry for them. You will call out for them. You will wish for a different outcome.

Reality does not change for the mere wishes of humans. It is far stronger than the desires of the mind.

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Teacup Story – New Life

New Life – Violet loved to watch her garden in the early spring, celebrating the new life that came with the warmer months. (Genre – General, Rating – PG)

Violet’s favourite time of year was the early spring, when the first hint of life was starting to show in the garden.

There was something magical in the way that life began again in the spring, after having been dormant for the winter months. Trees that were bare now had tiny buds appearing all along their branches, hints of the colour that was to come later in the year. The crocus flowers were just starting to appear, blooming in the cold spring sunlight to add a patch of colour to the otherwise dark soil. Even the grass, once dull and flat, was now growing tall towards the sunlight above.

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Teacup Story – Big Day

Big Day – Tiffany woke up on the morning of her wedding with a sense of peace that she had never felt before (Genre – General, Rating: PG).

Tiffany opened her eyes to a haze of light.

It was morning, that much she knew. The light was streaming in through the curtains which had been haphazardly pulled across by her sister the night before. The rays danced across the wall, illuminating the motes of dust that drifted through the air like snowflakes.

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Teacup Story – Fog

Fog – Harriet took the same route, every weekend. Even when there was fog. (Genre – General, Rating – PG)

The morning was a crisp, sharp cold like the bite of a fresh apple.

The gravel of the pathway crunched underfoot, sharp stones digging into Harriet’s soles enough for her to feel it through the walking boot. Her route forward was mostly shrouded in the gentle fog that settled over the forest at winter, drawn in from the sea a good number of miles away. It made it feel almost ethereal out here, surrounded by clouds and listening to the quiet breaths of nature in the still air.

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