On Eagles' Wings

Date: 13 th Mar, 2023, Mon Writing Prompt: Alarm Clock   ***   It’s an ugly thing, for sure. Somebody gave it to me as a gift, probably someone cheap. Was it for a birthday? I can’t remember. I wouldn’t have used it if my old one hadn’t been broken, coincidentally.   It’s a digital one. Super plain. Just a rectangular face, black all over, with brightly lit red numbering. Boring.   I never thought much about it, just used it out of necessity. But tomorrow, it’s super important that I wake up on time. So, I’m setting the alarm, and I’ll try to get some sleep.   12:10AM   Serves me right for watching that series just before bedtime, the one called You . Part 2 was just out, and I couldn’t resist. I knew it was going to mess with my head. It’s so dark and twisted. But I couldn’t help it. What is it about these psychopathic serial killers that is just so entertaining to watch?   I wish I could have just killed all the people who tortured me, especially t...

Date: 11 th Mar, 2023, Sat Writing Prompt: Cosy Nights   ***   The fire dances, crackling happily as it nibbles on the logs. The room is dark, except for the light from the fireplace; it’s the old-fashioned kind, with an exposed brick frame, and a poker standing by its side.   Megan and Zack sit side by side, their arms touching, their feet cocooned together under a plaid blanket, covering up to their thighs. Megan has her cup of hot chocolate nestled between her brought-up knees, her hands hidden under long sleeves as she cradles it while Zack has his settled on the carpet beside him. She blows on the surface, and takes a tentative sip; the steam fogs up her glasses, but it only takes a few seconds to clear.   The microwave hums in the corner in the tiny kitchenette, warming up the lasagne that Megan just loves, and Zack tolerates. But he has to admit, the smell of chicken and cheese is tantalising, making him salivate. Just a couple more minutes.   Megan rest...

 Date: 7 th Mar, 2023, Tue Writing Prompt: Refreshed   ***   Ah. Lavender. Lemongrass. Jasmine. They smell absolutely divine .   I close my eyes, and breathe in the scents. I feel them enter my nostrils, and somehow fill my entire body, like a large warm comforter, enveloping me in calm, my body turning to jelly.   As I inhale deeply, lying flat on my stomach, in the background, I hear the tinkle of chimes, melodious xylophones, even the soft rattle of the angklung , reminding me of that crazy trip to Bali with my girlfriends for graduation.   For the first time then, I had let loose, and it was the best time of my life.   I had paid for it when I came back though, when he found out, but it was worth it. Just like I will probably pay for this later today. I push the thought aside, and let out a breath I am not aware I’m holding.   A few minutes pass. I feel utterly relaxed, and laugh to myself, thinking, At this poin...

Date: 6th Mar, 2023, Mon Writing Prompt: Last Person *** Traffic jam. Again. A super loud honk from the car ahead pierced my eardrums, sending a shooting pain through my skull. What now? I wondered, but wasn’t entirely invested in it. The driver in front must have been dreaming, or more likely texting on the phone, and not moved when he (or she) was supposed to. Not that I’ve…never done that myself before. I stared at the red lights in between the swipes of the windshield wipers until they became blurry, then rubbed my hands down my face. It’s been a really long day at the office, and I thought I could have avoided the jam by leaving late. But of course, it had to rain, and there had to be an accident along the route home… So here I am. I could feel my eyelids fluttering closed, and I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. Just hang on till we get home, I thought. Then a quick hot shower and bed, before it all begins again tomorrow. I sighed. Sometimes I wonder if ...

Date: 5th Mar, 2023, Sun Writing Prompt: Coffee or Tea *** She was sitting by the window as she always did. Somehow, the seat there was always available when she stopped by. The drink menu was open before her, her eyes on it, but she wasn’t seeing the words. There was a sudden waft of freshly baked pastries, croissants, it seems, and she was very tempted to get them. But she’d told herself, no tidbits, just a drink today. Even though she was hungry, she didn’t think it would be a good idea to eat anything that might mess up her lipstick. She wanted her lips to pop, draw in, entice. There was a ping on her phone, and she looked at it. Nick had texted her. “Free for a drink?” it said. “I was hoping to talk to you.” She sighed. She knew what it was going to be about. But, to be frank, she wasn’t really interested. She hadn’t been interested the last time, and things hadn’t really changed since. She wanted desperately for him to understand that, but he just didn’t. Some may admire his pers...

by Lisa Kwan *** The crying. Non-stop crying. Where is she? Brendwyn realizes she’s in an empty room. It isn’t any room she is familiar with though; there are no walls, no windows, just nothing. But she hears the crying. Her heart is pounding, and cold sweat forms on her forehead, in her palms. Suddenly, she sees her. She’s there, in a corner of the room, if there were a corner. A small bundle, completely wrapped in swaddling cloth, dark, unmoving. The crying. Brendwyn moves forward, slides to her knees beside her, absolutely terrified to pick her up. She leans in, but hesitates. She wonders why. Guilt creeps in. The crying. She lifts her up, and the crying intensifies. What’s wrong? She hastily unwraps the cloth from her covered face. She pulls the last of the folds of cloth free to reveal her baby...with her eyes gouged out. She screams as she drops the bundle, and watches in paralyzed horror as long slimy dark tentacles snake out where the baby’s...

Written for: The Writer's Tower Theme: Euphoria Weekly Visits by Lisa Kwan I walk down the hall, flanked by notice boards boasting of students that had won awards, competitions, achieved straight A’s, their faces bright, innocent. I knew he wasn’t up there, but he was as talented, smart and beautiful as any one of them. I reach the “Congratulations on coming to school!” sign, which I scoffed at, right outside his classroom, and knock on the open door.             The teacher, Ms. Manjeet, turns around, stopped at mid-sentence, surprise on her face. I take one step into the class and nodded. She comes towards me, and I whisper into her ear. Her turn to nod. “Tobias, your father is here to take you. You can gather your things and leave with him. Check with Hannah on what you’ve missed, okay?” Tobias’ eyes were already on me, as his teacher speaks, his eyebrows high, questioning. I made sure Ms. Manjeet doesn’t see, and then...