Adventure

Bakhashic World
It may have been gloomy and slippery outside, but that didn’t stop Lysenius from walking in the house with a big smile upon his face.
By Devond Devoeabout a month ago in Fiction
Beckoned By Love
His deep brown eyes stared at Badonesia when she looked over her shoulder. He was a few seats down from her, grinning as he gave a small wave.
By Devond Devoeabout a month ago in Fiction
Stitch: The Lore of Sara Foxgrave.
Rubbing her eyes as she wakes, sitting in the corner of the hissing shipping vessel as it settled against the dock at Bath Iron Works, steam rising from its rust‑bitten hull like the ship itself was exhaling. Sara Foxgrave stepped off the gangway with her duffel slung over one shoulder, boots hitting the wet pavement with a dull thud. The rain was already coming down hard, soaking through her clothes in seconds.
By Syl De'Vilabout a month ago in Fiction
The Pear Tree
The Pear Tree It was August 15th; beautiful and bright outside. The summer of 2030 is when I received my powers from mother earth. Yes, powers; I know it sounds crazy but it’s true. It all happened in Clarksburg, California under a beautiful pear tree. I was waiting for a friend who owned a farm around that way. I took one of the pears off of the tree; I was hungry and he was taking way too long. I bit into the sweet, juicy pear; as I am chewing I taste the ripeness even stronger. My eyes start watering; as I’m basically crying, my eyes get puffy and swollen. My lips got big and red as if my throat was swelling up. Yup, I’m allergic to pears; I guessed. William, my friend, finally comes outside. As he is running to me I fall on the ground and I start to have a seizure. As I’m foaming out the mouth, my friend William proceeds to put me on my side and he calls the ambulance while he is holding me.
By Nalaabout a month ago in Fiction
Nothing To Lose: Part 6
After looping Danny in, the case takes Jonas back to the scene, and a surprise visitor helps establish a new scenario worth looking into.
By Jason Mortonabout a month ago in Fiction
The One Meant-to-be
Sometime in the year 4084 During the Blight’s War Living in the Kingdom of Cuscing In the shadow of the sadistic King Stood the one meant to rule
By Mother Combsabout a month ago in Fiction
The Little Butterfly
Grumpily, the little butterfly sat under a huge leaf where the rain had driven him for shelter. It was supposed to be summer by now, but somehow the Weather God didn’t seem to know that. It had been raining almost non-stop for days.
By Christian Bass2 months ago in Fiction
Amara's Recipe
They all saw him, but none of the sous-chefs or dishwashers of Chez Valentine looked up for even a moment. They went about their business as if he wasn’t there. When he was in the way they simply passed dishes around him. His surprise when they did so was the only thing that seemed to surprise them.
By Kojo Gyan2 months ago in Fiction
Last Call
March 28th - Day 681 since last human contact. Rats have been plentiful this month. I still thank God when I am able to find food, but it feels silly sometimes. I haven't seen another human being in almost two years. Sometimes I feel like a new Adam, but after a while, God made Eve for Adam.
By John R. Godwin2 months ago in Fiction
Last Call for Mars
“Last call for Generalissimo Elon Musk. The rocket departs in two minutes! Last call for Generalissimo Elon Musk.” Elon heard the announcement from the interplanetary rocket, which made him curl up into a fetal position on a bench at the very edge of the spectators’ bleachers at Cape Canaveral. He’d thought there was no better place to hide than in a crowd of enthusiastic humans eager to send him to Mars. Upon the announcement, Elon’s whole life was flashing in front of him in his memories.
By Lana V Lynx2 months ago in Fiction
Room 412
The digital clock on the wall reads 11:42 PM. The red numbers glow against the beige paint. You count the seconds. One, two, three, four. The heart monitor next to the bed clicks at a steady rate of 40 beats per minute. Leo lies under the thin blue blanket. His chest rises. The blanket shifts. His chest falls.
By Edward Smith2 months ago in Fiction
Hold The Line
At eleven-thirty on Vera Power's last night at the switchboard, the Thompsons are the only people left on the line. Vera wipes her hands on her apron, takes a breath, then lifts the receiver. “Busy as all get-out tonight,” says the unmistakable voice of Blanche Thompson. “Don’t look like they’re going to miss you one bit, do it?”
By Edward Smith2 months ago in Fiction