Novel Allen
Bio
Every new day is a blank slate. Write something new.
Stories (772/0)
Chapter 3. Bear. Survival
The snow had stopped falling. I awoke realizing that I must have slept for hours as I opened my eyes to the starkness and beauty of the winter landscape. I winced as pain stabbed through my entire body. The tiniest of movement was like a million knives of shooting pain.
By Novel Allen2 months ago in Fiction
Chapter 2. The bear: How it all began.
Five of us had left the campsite that morning. The snow had slowed mightily low, down to just light flakes as a miserly sun peeked out from behind the thick overcast sky. Our group had earlier set out to go hunt for hides to trade for food in the government fort. Rolf had begged to be included in the hunt, he was at the age so I agreed for him to tag along. He was kept busy doing chores around the campsite.
By Novel Allen2 months ago in Fiction
Part 2 of my Vocal Investment journey
I have finally invested with the great hope that I am still around in five years to see where this is all leading; tomorrow, after all, is promised to no one. On the flip side, I am also hoping that I will be very rich. Written with a smile.
By Novel Allen2 months ago in Writers
Never say never
She has always loved me, doted on me, ever since I can remember, taking such great care to hold me close. I cherished the way she tenderly caressed and wrapped me in chiffon, velvet and feathery thistledown, refusing to allow the cobwebs of time to mar any aspect of my delicate persona and spirit.
By Novel Allen2 months ago in Fiction
The secret life of tapes
The old antiques store has been here ever since anyone can remember. Evie Summer spoke of it often. She always joked with the owner, Tobias, that she would leave him her most precious gift. She kept me in her purse, so her secrets could remain safe.
By Novel Allen2 months ago in Fiction
Demons!!!!!
Instinctively, I paused, I had tried my best to sneak in without being seen or heard. I somehow knew that I had awakened her at 3am by the sound of her breathing, it changed from deep rhythms to normal slow tempo. She could hear me creeping in guiltily from my unholy tryst. I have no idea why my inner demons make me hurt her so. Maybe it is this unrelenting passion fueled insanity between us, this thing called love. Ours is a flame which ignites in heated clashes of pure rage and ends in the heavenly bliss of making up. But not yesterday. Yesterday the fire had raged with God awful intensity from which I needed external succor, now the price would be hell to pay.
By Novel Allen2 months ago in Fiction