Short story openers.


The sun was beating down on the landscape, the sea reflecting the light of the sun, bathing the cliffs in a blue light. The chalk cliffs themselves towered over the shoreline, holding small amounts of houses above the water so precariously they looked as though they would fall into the blue abyss at any moment. Hills stretched as far as the eye could see, sporting trees all along the horizon, which was fuzzy due to the humidity of the day. 

The heat was intense.

All of this and more, like the exotic flowers flourishing from the ground, would have caught my eye, I’m sure. That is, if my plane wasn’t hurtling towards the sea, mercilessly.


Pulling my headscarf tighter around me, I press on, my eyes not wavering from the crowd in front of me. This is it. It will all be over soon. I just have to wait.

I get shoved and pushed, but I stand my ground. People shout their wares from their stalls, their sing-song voices ringing out above the hubbub of the crowd. Colourful merchandise glitters and catches my eye, while more and more people hurry on past me. As they go past, I realise how people’s eyes are trained on the ground, their heads bent. They’re scared. Scared to be in their own country, scared to walk the streets of their city. And why? Because if people like me. Because of the people who strapped the bomb onto me. Because people, just like me, agreed to it all. My heart lurches with regret, and I grow frantic in trying to think of a way to detach the bomb, but in vain. It’s pointless. What can I do? Wait and die, and kill all those around me.

That’s what I wanted, that’s what I agreed to… so why does it feel so wrong now? My head spins, my heart hammers inside of me, trying to escape from my chest, as if it knows that it’s not got long left. Not long now.



The heat is intense. I’m exhausted, my whole body aches. Panting, I slide down against the bark of a tree. I can’t go any further. It’s a struggle to keep the tears from leaking out of my eyes, and I’m not even sure what’s happened. What’s going on? My head pounds, the world spins. 

It began this morning. It was so hot, but my mother insisted we went out, so my sisters and I went for a picnic on the top of a hill, so that we could sit under the shade of a large oak tree. We’d barely caught our breath before the world started trembling. It went on and on for what felt like hours, tossing us around mercilessly. Then I saw the cracks. One of my sisters screamed at me, telling me to head back to the village where our caravan was parked. I stumbled down the hill blindly, until I fell to the ground. Seeing my sisters a little way ahead of me, I got up, but there was a deep crack separating me from them and the village. Switching directions I continued running, hoping that the earth wouldn’t start shaking again. I kept going and going, not wanting to stop for fear of what I would be able to see if I looked properly. 

I eventually stopped, now here I am. Lost. Alone. Terrified. And in pain. A tear trickles down my cheek, escaping from my wary eyes. What do I do?

These are a few of my short story openers, which do you think is the best? #1 is the story linked to the picture (some aspects were just my imagination though), but #2 is my favourite. Hope you liked them! Xoxo.

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