Magical Realism

Voyage of the Chevalier: Chapter 1 - A Nefarious Patron
The harbor of New Colverelle is a noisy place, by all consideration. Waves crash against the sea cliffs, roosting seagulls shout their cacophonies, and the unmistakable sound of steam and cog hiss and squeal as cargo is loaded and unloaded from myriad ships bound for the Serene Republic and her many colonies. Despite the unpleasant industrial sounds and smells, there was a bleak beauty about this particular day as the morning sun began its ascent over the horizon. The few resolute tropical plants clinging to life in this mechanized marvel drank the light greedily as the first whisps of black smoke escaped from their chimneys. Work starts early in the harbor, as Duncan Fourchette and his crew knew well.
By Ian Read3 years ago in Chapters
Edward Graves
The ticking of the clock drives me insane as I wait in the lawyer's office. My mom passed and it’s time to hear the will. I’m sitting across from my two idiot, twin cousins. Tim and Tom are just a few months younger than me, but we were never friends. On either side of them are their parents, my aunt Kat and her husband Mark. All four are short and round. Kat has always hated herself and has done much to look different, except exercise and diet. Her hair is dyed from black to blonde, but she’s not consistent enough to keep her dark roots hidden. Her skin is spray tanned and I think her lips have been done since I saw her last. Next to Kat is my uncle Edwin. Looking at he and I is like looking through time. I used a photo from his high school days as my senior photo and no one, except he and my mom, noticed. He’s tall, thin, and pale with dark hair. His is groomed while mine is a bit shabby. We are both wearing all black, as usual.
By Tales from a Madman5 years ago in Chapters
Beneath the Skin
I can remember the feeling of loss. The pain can brighten one’s life to a point where all you can do is just smile. I can see the moment so clearly, I was about ten years of age and I could picture my mother lying in her laced bed. She whispered to my father about something grave, but it seemed as if my father had no care. Her completion was becoming pale as if she had tasted poison. Few weeks flew by and my mother grew weaker, eventually dying. We had a funeral for her the following week. We had no relatives attend the funeral, for all had died by some 'disease'. During the burying of my mother, a tear dropped down from my eye as if the world had changed meaning. Looking up at my father I had seen a faint smile upon his face. I knew from then on I had no one to count on, not ever.
By Ghoulishtale Studios6 years ago in Chapters