Challenge #02744-G187: Did the Countenance Divine…?
WWII arrived and the British Women’s Institute did the usual jam and knitted sock, but guest Speakers came in and they saw a different path to take . Many Women who went on to careers in Degrees said. “I heard about it at the women’s Institute. Jerusalem was there theme hym "And did those feet…” – Nonny Mouse
[AN: I went through this site trying to find what the heck you were talking about and found no such references. I can’t spend all day down the rabbit hole so…]
You can’t complain, we’re at war! That was what they always said, but there was always a war. There were often times when it was unclear who they were at war with and, in Alis’ less patriotic moments, she sometimes thought that their mighty nation might even be at war with itself.
It never did to say anything of the sort. That was treason. You couldn’t say things like that out loud. Their mighty leader was a genius at strategy, the news always said so. So Alis said things like “mustn’t grumble,” or, “so many others have it so much worse.” When it came to supporting the troops, Alis and so many like her were expected to do everything they could.
Their allotted land was for food that never ended its existence on Alis’ table, nor anyone else’s she’d heard of. It was all for the troops. The men who went away strong and fit and came back - if they came back - for conjugal visits during Ceasefire Month, or came back broken and barely useful for The Effort at all.
[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for a link to the rest of this story, and details on how to support this artist. Or visit steemit (dot) com (slash at) internutter for the stories at their freshest]
Challenge #02281-F091: The Threshold
You’ll need the wayback machine. A man stands in front of a door. It can lead anywhere. Dare you step through? – Anon Guest
Presented for your approval, the image of a man in a grey suit. The man is also in tones of grey. To see him, and the door he offers you, is to see into different realities where anything from creeping horror to sublime delight awaits on the other side. It is, without a doubt, the trip of a lifetime. If you survive, it will be a life-altering experience.’
If you don’t survive… well… people disappear all the time, don’t they? The missing, the absent, the lost… those who are there one minute and gone the next. The shadows in the corner of your vision. The sensation of being followed, only to find no-one there. Those are the ones who failed to learn the lessons in the twilight lands, and are doomed to educate the others.
There’s no name for the realm into which the grey door leads. Not one that can be spoken without sheer tonnage of cultural load crushing the reader with its impact. Call it what you please. The twilight realms, the kharma zone, the faewraith… what matters is that those who enter it are luckier than you may believe. Those who survive to come back are forever changed. Whether or not it is for the better is not for us to judge. The judges, after all, have already done their work.
[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for a link to the rest of this story, and details on how to support this artist. Or visit steemit (dot) com (slash at) internutter for the stories at their freshest]