On Eagles' Wings

by Lisa Kwan Written for: The Writer's Tower   Theme: Irony (March) Medal Words: seductive, goblet The lecturer had been nervous all day, wondering how and when she was going to tell them. Would they be upset? Would they cry? Would they be angry? Or worse, would they complain about her to their faculty deans and get her in trouble? But she had to tell them; she just had to. Probably at the end, when they had less time to....kill her. Throughout the lesson, she had tried to act as normal as she could. Students had asked her questions about class work, she had answered. A student made a joke, she laughed, albeit a little restrained. Finally, it was the last ten minutes of the lesson. She had to do it—now or never. “Guys, there's something I have to tell you. It's about your test.” The class immediately quietened, and she could see (and somehow feel ) all eyes on her. Her heart began to thump again, an erratic drum beat in her ears. “Th...

by Lisa Kwan Written for: The Writer's Tower Theme: Unromantic (February)   Medal words: candelabra, eccentric ***  She was annoyed. Despite it being the morning, she had awoken in darkness. She pushed herself off the bed and padded in her bare feet towards the ceiling-high windows of her bedroom, her translucent nightgown almost trailing the floor. They were still tightly shut, the windows, probably the work of some ill-informed servant—she hated them closed like that, especially in the mornings. She pushed her tiny hands against the wooden shutters, and they creaked as they opened, as if protesting most enthusiastically. As she had suspected, it was a beautiful morning in Willow Vale. A special day. She wondered if today would be different. And a tiny part of her dared hope. It was, after all, their first anniversary. There was plenty to do before her husband returned home. But at that very moment, her stomach growled. “Melyra,” she said. A young g...

by Lisa Kwan Written for: The Writer's Tower Theme: Sanguine (January) Bonus words: "saucepan" or "croissant" Their march-like footsteps could be heard around the corner. We ducked into a nearby alley, hearts pounding. They trudged safely past. Any second later and they’d have caught us. I shivered. I gripped her small hand tighter. We crept along the walls, barely daring to breathe. Her small bag of belongings swung heavily around her slight shoulders as we swiftly turned corners and darted between the shadows. I remember fleetingly wondering what she’d brought with her, knowing there was no return; if one of the contents was regret. She suddenly pulled me back, gripped my cloak. We’d arrived at a dead end. I must have taken a wrong turn; it was too dark to see. It wasn’t the same way I’d come by. Still, I pulled her closer, and silently made way towards the main road. It was our only path out of the town. Merely a few steps later, a guard heade...