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BrokenSword

  • Bull Run

    If I’m not killed in the charge, then this damned heat will surely do the deed for me, Louis thought grimly as he absentmindedly rubbed the barrel and the blade ...

    14 min read
  • Entering Writing Contest

    Hello, There is a literature contest going on at my school, and I'm going to enter in three categories (one chapter from a novel in progress, an original short story, ...

    16 min read
  • The Black Cobra: Chapter 1

    CHAPTER 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Where is he? Nasser let out an exasperated sigh and shut his eyes, passing a hand over his bronzed face. ...

    13 min read
  • The Black Cobra: Chapter 2

    Chapter 1 *** CHAPTER 2 "Go on. Move along." The three guards pressed closely behind the condemned prisoner, herding him like a pack of dogs into a small clammy chamber. ...

    13 min read
  • Rebecca

    Prologue A young woman ran along a damp dirt road between the dripping hickories, hard legs pumping evenly, her breath coming in small frosty clouds. Racing the sunrise. One slim ...

    5 min read
  • The Black Cobra: Chapter 3

    Chapter 1 Chapter 2 *** CHAPTER 3 Aisha wiped her wet hands on a dishrag and sighed softly, casting a weary glance at Jaleh beside her. Her hands were sore ...

    10 min read
  • The Black Cobra: Chapter 4

    Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Erik watched his servant girl carefully as she helped him remove the bandages from his leg and set them aside on his bed. The ...

    10 min read
  • The Black Cobra: Chapter 5

    CHAPTER 5 Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Over the next week, it was obvious that Sabah had become depressed after Erik’s angry outburst. She refused to carry ...

    12 min read
  • Like That'll Ever Happen

    (Note: I'm not sure if this belongs here or under Narrative Poetry...? ) It didn't happen immediately. I worked with him for a month Didn't really pay attention to him ...

    2 min read
  • This Murderer

    Their eyes were locked. His muscles were tightened, teeth clenched his heart pumping blood through his tense body. His mask lay on the floor, exposing the impossibly twisted, discolored flesh ...

    5 min read


The bigger the issue, the smaller you write. Remember that. You don’t write about the horrors of war. No. You write about a kid’s burnt socks lying on the road. You pick the smallest manageable part of the big thing, and you work off the resonance.
— Richard Price