The Rebellion by Isabelle

Lana waited for the search light to make another round, counting down the sequence she’d committed to memory. Rubbing sweaty palms on her thighs, she straightened her shoulders, crouching low for the run.

“Get ready,” she called behind her.

3-2-1.

They rushed across the abandoned plaza and ducked into the sharp angles of the building’s entryway. Jo’s feet were solid lead, banging on the concrete, her breath a frantic pant behind her. Lana waited for the sirens, her heart in her throat, her body tensed for another run. The army never came.

There was only silence. Silence and the sound of Jo’s hysterical breathing.

“Think you could breathe a little louder, Jo?,” she bit over her shoulder. “I don’t think the guards quite hear you.”

“Nick said he’d be here.”

“And he will.”

“Then where is he?”

“Maybe he’s running late.” Lana cupped her hand above her eyes and pressed against the glass. Everything within the building was still dark, only shadows and moonlight dancing in slow circles across the stark white tiles.

A Little Late

My apologies for the silence! I was on vacation until Sunday and got back to immediate domestic duties (note: unpacking sucks). Please forgive me! I will try and have a freebie up on Friday. I hope you’re all enjoying your summer. 🙂

Weary Traveler by Lisa

He moves a dusty patch of earth behind him with every step. His steps, once eager, had slowed to determined, mechanical movements.

He didn’t know how long he’d been walking. A month? A year? A lifetime.

Always he was pulled on by a waft of air, reminiscent of her smell, her hair, or a flash of movement in the distance like the swish of a dress.