Historical
From Cherbourg to Paradis
21 April 1912 My dear Papiere, What sorrow must the news have brought you in the last few days? I'm writing you in preparation for my and the children's return home without our beloved Joseph Phillipe. We started our journey from Cherbourg with such high hopes. My husband, our children, and I. Do you remember how excited we were to finally be on our way to my husband's beloved homeland of Haiti? I can still see Joseph Phillippe running into the cellar exclaiming over the letter he had received that morning from his uncle President Dessalines M. Cincinnatus. Mon Dieu that feels like a lifetime ago. Uncle Dessalines sent the beautifully written letter to inform Joseph Phillippe that he had secured an engineering position for him within his newly formed government. After all of Joseph's struggles to endure in my once beloved country without success. This letter was the lifeline we needed for a prosperous future together.
By Maize Scott4 years ago in Fiction
Titan Aboard. Runner-Up in Ship of Dreams Challenge.
“You black bastard!” Joseph barely heard the curse fire, before he felt the child’s small body slip from his hold. Her head of dark curls slid down towards his chest and her feeble torso, clothed in only an embroidered sleeping gown, fell towards his belly. He caught the girl with an instinctive squeeze of his elbow against his side, which caused her to cry out in pain. The sound was muffled in the folds of his shirt and heavy coat, as he pressed her into him, guarding the shivering child from the fire-eyed stranger who gripped her tight by the ankle.
By Marcus Terrell Smith4 years ago in Fiction
A Birdseye View Of the Sinking of the Titanic
I must admit that I am still so often impressed by the creativity and accomplishments of mankind. I realize that perhaps I shouldn't be. I did create you all from my own image. There are definitely a number of moments that stand out more than others, however. Today is one of those.
By The Mouthy Renegade Writer4 years ago in Fiction
A Final Goodbye
Marjorie and I were inseparable. We went everywhere together, sat together for all our meals and we playmates. We even slept in the same bed. Mama tried very hard to separate us once, insisting I have my own bed, but Marjorie screamed so loud that Papa told Mama to just leave us be.
By Lilly Cooper4 years ago in Fiction
O'Fallon's Curse
As a NASA engineer, Patrick O’ Fallon, III received one of the models the agency had made for the members of the 1985 Challenger team. He sat on the floor by the Christmas tree assembling the miniature shuttle for his son. It had been a stressful year for Patrick and the team. They were behind schedule with the updates for the spacecraft that had already completed nine successful missions, including a spacewalk, and carried the first American female and African American astronauts.
By Mindy Reed4 years ago in Fiction
At Least I Have This
It was quite a feat, the sinking of the Titanic. The Unsinkable ship she was called by so many people. It was April 15, 1912, in the wee hours of the morning and the Titanic had just sunk. Dazed and confused, I sat upon a lifeboat with about 20 other passengers or so. I was six months pregnant with my first child. My husband Clark, was not with me. The last I had seen of him, was from aboard that very ship that had just sunk into the icy waters below. He had placed a kiss firmly on my lips before we departed, as if to say, 'I'll see you soon'.
By Chloe Rose Violet 🌹4 years ago in Fiction
Six of Swords
Come close, reader, see this newsstand: It is April 15th, 1912, and yesterday the great ship Titanic met its match when it struck a North Atlantic iceberg. We all know the story, but that is not why we are here. Move past the horrifying headlines of marine tragedy and see now, if you will, that magazine there – yes, The Popular Magazine with its nautical themed cover. Browse the collection and find our friend Thornton Hains, who submitted his story ‘The White Ghost of Disaster’ to the magazine for publishing well over a year ago, only to find it in print mere weeks before the sinking of the Titanic took place. What's that? No Thornton Hains? Check for his pen name; Captain Mayn Clew Garnett. Smart to publish under a nautical name when you're trying to sell sea-based fiction around boatyards, no? Let us imagine the moment the writer gleaned the idea for the story. Were there mystical oracles involved? Was it simply the musing of a writer who, unluckily, foretold of the exact conditions of this tragedy? A combination of the two? Let us explore whether anyone was saved on account of Thornton’s musings – scared away from traveling on the ill-fated ship, perhaps...
By C.D. Hoyle4 years ago in Fiction
Alone on a wide wide sea
It was cold and clear; a crisp night. Which could be expected on a moonless night, she told herself, looking up at the stars as she crossed the foredeck. There’s so many of them. What light they made, rippled in the ship’s wake along with the cabin lights, all magnified in their own reflection. She was quick to open the door on the port side, making her way into the stairwell the crew used.
By ben woestenburg4 years ago in Fiction
