Posted in Daily Prompt, Haiku, Poetry, Scotts Daily Prompt, Writing

Stroke of Midnight

The brush of midnight

Sweeps darkness across the sky

Sprinkled with white stars

In response to Scott’s Daily Prompt, Stroke of Midnight

Posted in Daily Prompt, Fiction, Short Stories, Writing


By Scott Bailey 2017

By Francisco Sanchis Cortés (Music at an exhibition) [CC BY-SA 3.0 (], via Wikimedia Commons
By Francisco Sanchis Cortés (Music at an exhibition) [CC BY-SA 3.0 (, via Wikimedia Commons
The God of War awoke. Stirred from his long slumber and stretched. He gave a few swings of his hammer and yawned.
“This is it!” His voice rolled through the thunder clouds like a promise.
His minions had had their fun while he slept. Keeping the family business running so to speak.
That was over. The was The War. The Big One.
Those puny little tyrants and heroes would not know what hit them.
The God of War flexed his neck, rolled his head and shook the sleep from his long, flowing hair.
Lightning gleamed dully in his armour.
He looked to his left, to his right. Stretching out on either side were the flanks of his sisters. Mounted – their wings shining in the rain.
The God of War raised his hammer and with a mighty swoop bore it down on the earth.
Lighting smashed open the clouds and unleashed hell.
People were confused. Thrown off their kilter. They could not understand the petty battles, the conflict after conflict. No one seemed able to stop them. No one seemed to care.
The rich and powerful holed up with their gold. The poor were starved and eaten.
The God of War kept at it. Smiling with fury. This was his purpose, his being, his goal. His end.
So confused and fearful the people did not see, the chances they had slip away. The weapons they might use be consumed by war.
While the battles raged the earth burned. And burned and burned. The forests turned to ash and cities fell. The seas boiled away.
Beyond repair, this was the final battle.
After the long age of suffering the God of War surveyed the devastation with satisfaction. He had won. Nothing survived. The earth was too warm for life, nothing breathed.
He had won. And so now he burned with the earth. Raised his arms in fury and triumph in his final pyre.
With no players, there was no more war.
Peace descended. The earth would rest in it until the end.

In response to the daily prompt Devastation


Posted in Creative Writing, Daily Prompt, Scotts Daily Prompt, Writing

Scott’s Daily Prompt 01/01/2022

Today’s prompt is.

Stroke of Midnight

Where were you last night when 2021 turned into 2021? Is
that where you’d wanted to be?

Posted in Creative Writing, Daily Prompt, Scotts Daily Prompt, Writing

New year, new challenge.

So last year I had a plan. To not post anything new on my website. I figured that by posting all my new work I was then eliminating that work from competitions etc.

So the plan was, keep the site going by reposting old stuff, while waiting new stuff in the background.

Well, that didn’t really work. I did the posting, but very little writing in the background. I did a few poems and a few short stories but nowhere near as much as I wanted.

So what to do?

I need a kick up the proverbial butt. So I  have decided to try another daily post challenge. I did one years ago, a poem a day challenge. This time I will try and do a post a day for a year based on this document. I may diverge from the suggestions but they will be the spring board.

To address my concern about eliminating myself from markets I will actually do two. One I will publish the other I will keep private.

I will also make each prompt a post that people can link back to if they want to join in.

I will also still post old posts. Let’s see how it goes.