Adventure
The Selfless Vote
Well, I wouldn’t call them my friends, all these other scholars walking along the great corridors, following each others with their confident look and piercing gaze, hurrying to see, at long last, the blue flame. I remember I was invisible, among them, no one was paying me any mind.
By YonathanJ - Writer2 months ago in Fiction
Pugilistic Portrait
"Are you alright, sir?" I felt as if I had been punched by a heavyweight, and one without gloves at that. I tried to focus. I was propped up on a low chair or stool of some sort and was looking up at a middle-aged man who seemed somehow familiar. There was nothing familiar about my surroundings.
By Raymond G Taylor3 months ago in Fiction
The Unknown Chase
Beneath the colony’s artificial dawn, a weary, scruffy-faced man lay with his eyes closed and pretended the alarm was not sounding. Beyond his sealed window, crews in pressure suits crossed a surface no unprotected human could survive. On the nightstand, dim light caught a bottle of brown liquor, a pack of contraband cigarettes, and a metallic semi-automatic pistol. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. It felt far too early, but exhaustion—not the hour—was the problem.
By Jason Morton3 months ago in Fiction
The Last Swing of Spider-Man
From the top of a silent skyscraper, Spider-Man stood still—unmoving, unshaken, but not unbroken. Peter Parker adjusted his mask, though there was no one around to see him. Below, the city buzzed with life: sirens, headlights, voices. But up here, there was only silence… and the weight of everything he had lost.
By Behind the Curtain3 months ago in Fiction
Big red bus
Bold, red, the London bus stood at the bus stop, as countless people streamed off into the day, with no thought for each other, just to get to their destination. One solitary figure hopped aboard, climbing the narrow steps to the top platform, where a seat awaited. What would the day bring? She didn’t like to think about it, just watch the wet streets glide by.
By Raymond G Taylor3 months ago in Fiction
Whispering Pines. Top Story - July 2026.
Prologue: July 1994 Jennifer Evans could still taste the raspberry shimmer gloss she wore to her first week of summer camp. The smell of damp cedar hung heavy in the humid air. The bandana she had soaked in ice water wrapped tight around her neck as they readied for further instructions. Her mom’s car faded from sight down the dusty gravel road back towards civilization. Gate guard Rick locked the metal doors behind the last gaggle of parents, some of whom had never left a child at camp before. It would be four-weeks until she would see her mom again, promises of letters and care packages had been exchanged.
By K.H. Obergfoll3 months ago in Fiction
