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Welcome to Allure

My blog is all about writing, reading and the World of Allure. I wanted to create a place where I could share the Short Stories I write, for free, for everyone. Writing is my one true passion, I enjoy delving into the depths of the imagination, plucking out a character or two and sending them on a journey. If you get even a fraction of the joy I get from writing these stories through reading them, then to me that is the greatest of successes I could hope for.

“Do what you love and you’ll love what you do, because if you truly love your work, well then it isn’t really work at all.”

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Writing Prompt: You live in an alternate universe where a person’s worst fear becomes a tangible threat in the dark.

You live in an alternate universe where a person’s worst fear becomes a tangible threat in the dark. The rich possess ever-illuminated mansions while the poor conserve power for the dreaded night hours. Just as the sun is setting, your entire town’s power grid fails.

What waits in the dark?

A voice screams laughter throughout the city, and the eternal night descends.

“The lights!” a sickening thought shared aloud by every mouth around. The power had failed, and their nightmares were waking.

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Writing Prompt: You are the Gardener, planting a seed for any notable deaths in your village and growing it until their “second death”.

You are the Gardener, planting a seed for any notable deaths in your village and growing it until their “second death”. The type of plant that grows relates to the personality of the person who died. One day, you notice a new plant has sprouted. You don’t know what kind it is.

In the small village of Creak death was not always the end, it was an end, but not the end. Tradition demanded that any who died within Creak had to be planted. It was quite poetic in a way, that death would bring new life, though it wasn’t always the case.

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Writing Prompt: You’re walking with your SO when you notice a familiar figure on the other side of the road.

You’re walking with your SO when you notice a familiar figure on the other side of the road. Without warning, your SO flips out a pocket knife and starts carving strange runes on the surface of the sidewalk. In an eerily calm tone they said to you, “Run, and whatever you hear, don’t look back.”

He would show up almost always at random, just out of sight. A fragment of my imagination floating in the far corner of my eye. Willow had told me to ignore it… to ignore him. She had begged me not to look, not ever.

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Writing Prompt: A group of bandits are hiding in the forest when they come across a sword in a stone.

A group of bandits are hiding in the forest when they come across a sword in a stone. None of them can pull it so they come back with pickaxes and smash the stone. As one of the bandits lifts the freed blade a disembodied voice says, “Well… I guess that counts.”

They’d all but forgotten why they were hiding, when the sword revealed itself from the clutches of a nearby bush. You might say that swords can’t reveal themselves, but you’d be wrong. After all, this was no ordinary sword.

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Writing Prompt: Most alien species are extremely vulnerable to their star’s radiation.

Most alien species are extremely vulnerable to their Star’s radiation; it turns out that our Sun’s light is a thousand times deadlier. Humanities ability to tan is seen as a God-like superpower, and melanin is a mythical substance rumoured about. One day aliens reach Earth and discover sun screen.

Years pass us by in the mere flashing of seconds, time so quickly flaking away as its sands drip ever down the hour glass of life. This is what it means to be human, to be mortal. This it what is means to be under the watch of so ancient a creature as the Sun.

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Writing Prompt: “Who am I?” she said in a low, urgent voice.

“Who am I?” she said in a low, urgent voice, “I can tell you recognise me. I can’t remember tell me: who am I?” Her grief was palpable as she yelled, “Who am I!”

I urged her to remain calm, that prying eyes wouldn’t take kindly to her screaming. We were sat together, in the confines of a homely room, but we were by no means alone. I let my watch drift from her face to that of the grandfather clock’s, ticking, ticking ever away. Oh wretched thing. I mused, distrusting of its oaken glare. Father time is waiting, and here he’ll be, soon enough.

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Writing Prompt: In life you’ve considered yourself exceptionally lucky.

In life you’ve considered yourself exceptionally lucky. However, unbeknownst to you there’s a god who has fallen in love with you and bends the universe to make you succeed or give you second chances.

Faith. She considered herself lucky, in as far as luck goes. Lucky, but not blessed. Her parents may have be Christian through and through, but Faith had no intention of following in their footsteps. Much to her father’s disappointment. He left not long after her thirteenth birthday…

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