short story
The Cloudy Pacific
The California dream is a golden coastline, glorious water and stress-free living. Only one of those things is true. I found myself desperately missing home as my toes anchored me to the Malibu shoreline. Was this it? Violent, cloudy water? The drive to Will Rogers Beach from my Echo Park apartment had me melting like a popsicle in the driver's seat of my CRV; but somewhere along the Pacific Coast Highway the seasons magically transformed and suddenly it was winter in the dead of July.
Christy bradleyPublished 3 years ago in EarthHealing Sword
I step onto a yard of grass, green and fresh with the rain of the day before, and I press my bare toes into it. I greet the sycamore whose roots coil below before turning to the light of the sun, rising in the east, and the warmth embraces me like a friend missed for some time. Mockingbird perches at the top of the electric pole, preening her feathers in the dawn light before singing her old song, and I quiet my mind to listen. Her songs are indigenous like me, and I always keep my ears tuned for pieces of shared language and stories about the land, and our ancestors which her kind remembers, but my people have forgotten. I take a deep breath and thank God for waking me, and for the cool of the air which I know will not last as the day progresses and the sun’s caress will turn into a harsh beating. I grip the sheath of my sword, draw the blade free and raise it to a sky tinted gold. I present my weapon to the heavens and summon energy from the high cosmos, down to my dimension to course through the tip of my sword, down the length of the gleaming blade and into me. I proceed into movement, wielding my weapon with the surety of an extended limb.
Jarrad DeGruyPublished 3 years ago in EarthA Dance with Grandfather Owl
Flamenco for me is like coming upfor fresh air. I love the concentration levels it requires, it has the capacity to create a portal into the unknown.Its the levels of surrender, the sounds of the nails stumping with el cajon take you into a sort of trance. Its the guitar, it strombs at your heart and you flow...you flow into a space where you are infinite.
You know what to do
What makes an experience real? A true happening, raw emotion not bound by the body- what proof can there be that it was real?
Salomé SaffiriPublished 3 years ago in EarthWhat I have Seen
I was born as the eldest english oaks were dying. My first breath as they felt their last. A bloodthirsty king who chopped down trunks as happily as he discarded wives. The things they had seen put my own experiences to shame. I may have followed the smoky scent of Viking braids, but those trees watched the Romans leave. Drank from rivers annointed by Celtic druids and weathered storms in the company of Ursidae and Wapiti.
Meg FosterPublished 3 years ago in EarthI Am Fear
Blood. Sweet, delicious blood. I can smell it in the water. Sleek, fast, cunning. I am the apex predator. A monster, swift, destructive. I am the king of the sea, the warrior of the ocean. I am a shark.
Zachary M. Cain (Creative/Copy Writing)Published 3 years ago in EarthI'm Just a Little Clownfish
So I woke up this morning after only about three and a half bubbles of sleep. There was too much on my mind again. Too many problems to solve, other fish to please. I was feeling extra grumpy. Wow. Another day drowning in my sorrows. I thought to myself 'Why can't I feel like Barry feels every day?' I know he looks grumpy and nasty, being a Barracuda and all, but trust me; he's just so peaceful all of the time! Anyway, I got out of bed, tidied my anemone, because you know, tidy anemone, tidy mind etc. I was going to make an egg for my wife's breakfast, but then remembered that she wouldn't be happy eating her own offspring. Then I also remembered that I'm broke and don't have a wife.
Agapē NowHerePublished 3 years ago in EarthDeep Dive: The Last One
10th Grade Historical Report: The Dawn of the Aquatic Age By: Elonia Markie Date of submission: 28 July 7021 Submerged under water the aquami people grew accustomed to their new underwater lives in the year c. 4020. They lived in their own submarine homes with their families. Over time they developed mutations that allowed them to bring forth a new human species that was capable of surviving underwater. They were called homo aquamanti otherwise known as aquami. They were able to develop intricate systems of communication through the water. To travel between underwater countries there were above-level ports where they could catch a water plane for short trips or boats for elongated ones. They built skyscrapers made of a special kind of synthetic non-corrosive metal that was anchored into the most shallow parts of the Earth’s ocean, which had previously been known as deserts to the human species before. These were dry, hot, arid areas with little to no water. The cities were built in the ocean with their bottom floors submerged below sea level. As you go up the buildings, past the tenth floor, it is completely dry as it is the first floor completely above sea level. That’s where the most wealthy, powerful homo aquamantis live and work. It is also where most governments position themselves in specially marked buildings.
Vonnie PosnakidisPublished 3 years ago in EarthShe's a shark
The story begins on the docks of the beautiful Atlantic. A shark attack occurred for the first time in 20 years. By the time the coast guards could get involved, the head and torso of the young man only remained. One of the two coast guards jumped in the water to remove the remains. As the guard got ready to enter the boat, a shark was approaching quickly. The guard on the boat instantly shot the shark with an arrow. The shark was no longer moving, and his fin began to disappear into the water. As the guard in the water goes back on the boat, he says, “Oh boy, we better fish that shark out and get those headache pills ready, you know Mary going to have something to say.” The other guard laughs and replies, “Nets already ready, don’t need to say her name twice. We had no choice. She cannot say anything.” Once the shark was on board, they headed to shore, where Mary was already waiting.
Jessica A. FoxPublished 3 years ago in EarthWide Blue Expanse
There were stories passed down from our ancestors, stories of a wide blue expanse, buffeted by wind, teaming with life, where natural predators were rare. We swam as far and as fast as the waves and currents would take us. We rested when the hunt drained our energy, rested when the storms raged across the water, rested when the current slowed our frenzied progress. Then we hunted, our dominance spreading over miles, our presence felt in the tremors of the water rushing behind us. Nothing that swam in the deep was safe from our gaze, fish fueled us, and we devastated shoals from coastline to inlet. Our ancestors hunted together, the water bore our numbers and swallowed our refuse. Then as the stories go, solitude became our path, each to their own waters, their own territory, their own beaches with sandy shores and slow currents. Those were the stories, the ones that we felt in our bones, behind our eyes, deep in our souls.
Kavi WarrickPublished 3 years ago in EarthThe Greatest White Shark
It washed in with the morning tide and was left behind on the pebbled shore. The Boy found it while searching for creatures to befriend. Just yesterday he helped welcome the starfish to its new home on the underbelly of the big grey rock—much to the disdain of the boulder’s oldest resident: Mr. Octopus, who did not appreciate the presence of a new neighbor no matter how many arms they had. However, The Boy didn’t make it to the big grey rock today. Instead he was halted by a perplexing discovery.
Eden ScraffordPublished 3 years ago in EarthThe Joy of Little Things!
I still sometimes think of the famous lines from the poem 'Leisure' written by W.H. Davies What is this life if, full of care. We have no time to stand and stare.
NAVNEET DHILLONPublished 3 years ago in Earth