Mollie Narutovics
Bio
Creativity can blossom from the wildest of places, and has no limitations. Stories are all around us waiting to be told; I hope to someday bring mine to life and share it.
Stories (14/0)
The Anders'
The boat was expected to arrive around 5:30 pm. Due to complications along the way, priorities changed and getting the passengers from point A to point B was not the crews’ main focus. So, the boat arrived in the harbour a full four and a half hours later than expected. Naturally, this made some, or most of the passengers quite upset. On any other occasion this would have made Mr. Anders very mad as well, but given the circumstances on this particular day, he sat back in his seat and felt quite relaxed. He was in no hurry to get home. He did not know how he was going to tell her the news, and the extra hours aboard gave him more time to think about how he was going to break it to her.
By Mollie Narutovics2 months ago in Fiction
Central Bar
Tucked away in the small corner of the city, was the bar: Central. The unique architecture and exquisite design made the old place look a little better than the condition it was really in. The shutters were falling from their places and more and more shingles blew from the roof and across the city each time even the slightest of breezes rolled by.
By Mollie Narutovics2 months ago in Fiction
View From Her Pent House
She stands, gazing out at the city of Hampton from the balcony off her pent house apartment above the hotel. Her amber hair blows lightly in the breeze. Her father, a rich lobbyist for the Liberal party who showed no emotion when he talked, bought her this apartment, and it is the best birthday gift, by far, that anyone has given to her.
By Mollie Narutovics2 months ago in Fiction
Kali Sleeps No More
In the dungeonous belly of a decrepit castle, Kali watches patiently as the fissure along the wall slowly gets concealed by the never-ending winter snowfall. Each day as the snow climbs higher, the malicious grin across her face stretches wider. Her original plan was to simply wait for the army to pass, for she wasn't ready to wake, but as they made camp on the ground above her domain, Kali's attitudes shifted and progressed toward hostilities.
By Mollie Narutovics3 months ago in Fiction
- Top Story - January 2024
The MantraTop Story - January 2024
In the early morning of February 11th, a whisper is barely audible above the dull sound of a fog horn. A monk sits, quietly tracing spirals with his finger in the piles of ground glass in front of him. The mantra he chants would leave anyone else tongue-tied, but he recites it with such melody that it sounds like a song. In his other hand, he holds an obelisk, that begins to glow after the tenth recitation of the mantra.
By Mollie Narutovics3 months ago in Fiction
My Dad's the One in Bright Orange
In cultures and people all over the world, orange takes on many attributes in clear displays of versatility. Buddhist monks wear orange to symbolize sacrifice and the letting go of worldly possessions. It is the national colour of the Netherlands worn to show patriotic pride. Orange is central to Halloween and the allure of a dark and spooky night. Orange brings warmth to the cooling autumn temperatures and a vibrancy to the shades of colours on full display in the changing foliage. As with any colour, orange also has individual impacts. Orange was a colour that stood out to me sometimes brilliantly and other times with sadness. It was obnoxious and warm, two ideas I felt opposed themselves, making it a confusing combination to wrap my head around. At a time when all I wanted was to blend in, orange seemed too attention seeking and loud; and when I did want to stand out, orange was not the colour coinciding with my bold emotional state. In hindsight, my feelings towards the colour had more to do with whom I attached the colour to. There were times when the colour gave me anxiety and made me feel alone, but as I got older, I realized the colour was only trying to challenge me to see things differently so I could become who it knew I was all along. Orange is now a calm presence; the ability to be goofy because it is fun; and a colour of unwavering love: it is the colour of my dad. I truly believe that orange embodies who my dad is in both a literal and figurative sense, and that has greatly influenced me on my journey to finding myself.
By Mollie Narutovics10 months ago in Men
The Doctor and The Baker
It is no secret that Gideon and Josiah’s childhood was clouded in darkness, with the only bit of light coming from Ms Celeste Page. The role she took on as their caregiver is arguably the only reason why the boys turned out to be so well-mannered and selfless community members. Ashford and Narkista’s lack of presence was both a blessing and a curse and left the brothers with many unanswered questions. Gideon and Josiah have little to recollect about either of their parents, and the memories that remain tell a story of betrayal and hardship. The brothers have given up contemplating and analyzing the events that occurred and have instead decided to bury themselves in work and extracurriculars. As their fondest memories center around her, the agony that has been lingering since her disappearance has, at times, been overwhelming and rarely inspires reminiscing.
By Mollie Narutovics11 months ago in Fiction
The Doctor and The Baker
In a small town, full of small homes, there were two small taverns. The streets were lined with chunky cobble stones causing the echoes of footsteps to linger and wander about. The approaching winter winds bring short days and long nights. A reminder that soon it will be night all day. In preparation, the mage’s apprentice was casting each lamp post with an undying flame, while others were harvesting crops and gathering goods from the forest that wrapped around the bottom of the town. When the day was night the woods seemed to awaken from an enchanted slumber. It was during this time that the forest was left to itself to regrow and reclaim what was lost. The time when night was day and day was night brought all manner of creatures who awoke with the forest. They skidded and hobbled their way through the small town all the while enduring watchful gazes from the townspeople.
By Mollie Narutovicsabout a year ago in Fiction
