A Crack in the Sidewalk

This was a little story I wrote earlier this year as an exercise in dramatic writing – how to make a simple object, a crack in the sidewalk, seem over-the-top crazy. I kinda like it! I do need more practice in short form storytelling.


Lights. An Explosion. Screeching, of the unknown. Terror. Fear. Confusion.

A crack.

A crack in the sidewalk.

The Army halted. The crack was a jagged ridge; unpassable, unbridged. Perhaps it would end the day. The laments among the soldiers were loud and clear: All was lost! Their homes would be burned! Their campaign had come to a screeching halt! All over this single crack, this crack in the sidewalk.

Out of the dust and ashes, one ant emerged. The whole army turned heads in unison. “There is hope!” she spoke. “I am the Lost Queen of the Ants, groomed for this day since my birth. There is a pass, far to the east, in the land of danger. Upon the ‘Road’, we can cross this sidewalk and destroy the Mantises once and for all!”

As she spoke, horns echoed out from the army, a drum began to point, and a flag began to wave behind her back.

“I am Marquoc Xor Borfanaklepskos, first in line to the throne, and is there anyone who will brave the dangers of ‘Road’ with me?”

A ragtag band of heroes – an outcast monk, a bard, a noble’s son on a quest for vengeance – all raised hands. They set out.

Within moments, a faint squash – a truck drove by.

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