Chalfont Art Studio: Free Sci-Fi and Fantasy short stories

It was not a battlefield for the living; it was a graveyard for the dead and dying

It was not a battlefield for the living; it was a graveyard for the dead and dying

You are the last, the final echo of who we were. Remember us. Remember our pain, our mistakes

You are the last, the final echo of who we were. Remember us. Remember our pain, our mistakes

I am here,” it said, a voice carried on the waves of eternity. “I am here, and I remember

I am here,” it said, a voice carried on the waves of eternity. “I am here, and I remember

Three Graces – We are but three, but together, we are one. We are you, and you are us.

Three Graces – We are but three, but together, we are one. We are you, and you are us.

Then he spun the umbrella once more and resumed his slow, rhythmic dance in the rain.

Then he spun the umbrella once more and resumed his slow, rhythmic dance in the rain.

A single surge, a split-second burst of heat and energy, and Salma had been lost to him forever.

A single surge, a split-second burst of heat and energy, and Salma had been lost to him forever.

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