Adventure
MR. X and Mrs. Y Cruising the Caribbean
Mr. X was alone at the deck, looking into the dark seawater of the midnight. An image of a lady waved in his mind. He did not dare to talk to her during the week of cruising the Caribbean. ‘She looks like a black widow spider eats the male after they mate. Yet she has an irresistible appeal that makes me sweat and causes my heart to beat fast,’ Mr. X did not have enough time to go further talking to himself. Mrs. Y came to the deck holding a glass of wine and stood not far from him looking into the dark seawater of midnight.
By Ayman Baroudi5 years ago in Fiction
Golden Locket of Peace
A heart shaped golden locket was found on the body discovered at the wreckage of the first saucer shot down when they tried to come in peace. The owner of the locket was a young woman and she was inside the saucer when it hit the cliff and exploded. All of her was disfigured and charred, except for this locket. I sense its importance to those who knew her and the nagging question of why she was on that saucer. Somewhere in the time between her getting on the ship and then being shot down, negotiations must have crumbled badly. What happened? Did they even know she was on the saucer? Could she have prevented what happened after?
By Jerec Velez5 years ago in Fiction
Running With Wolves
As I trudged heavily through the snow, dutifully following this miracle wolf, my mind wandered. My steps were mere reflex, an old habit long learned. It was like the conscious part of me had switched off and my body was just going through the motions; except that my brain was managing to recall my entire life and play it for me like my own personal movie. Dispersed between the feature program were random ad breaks of haphazard cerebrations and meaningless drivel that, at other times, I would have called “shower thoughts.” Then, on top of all of that, I found myself pondering the meaning of life; that age-old question that we spend our entire time on this Earth trying to answer. Here we were, possibly at the end of the world, and what had I really achieved? What would be the mark that I left on society? Would it be a symbol of art – a thing of beauty that would be admired – or merely a stain, an ugly demonstration of my failures to be mocked and spat upon? My brain kept going like this, on and on until it eventually circled back to the wolf. Again, the word “angel” confronted me. I shook my head. It was impossible, yet as if it could hear me, the wolf stopped and faced me.
By Chanelle Joy5 years ago in Fiction
Running With Wolves
Everywhere we looked there was snow. We had lost track of how long we had been walking, but it had been some time. Progress was slow and only getting slower by the day. We had made it to the Ottowa River, thankfully traversing the frozen waters with no drama. If we thought it had been cold before, on the other side of the river was a whole different story. It was as though we had stepped onto another planet. The snow was coming down in thick sheets by this time and it was difficult to see very far ahead, but what we could make out ceased our tracks. Where buildings should have been, there was only snow; an endless expanse of snow with the very tip of a roof spotted at random intervals. I tried not to think about those who might not have made it out in time and now lay buried in their homes. My heart fell as hopes of finding Rowan alive plummeted. If it weren’t for that niggling feeling in the very deepest part of my soul, I would have given up. I hadn’t received a mental image for a while now and the last one I did get was not very helpful; just another brilliant flash of white with a few added grey blobs. Were they supposed to be people? Then a word had come to me. Wolves. They were wolves? What could this mean? Was she being attacked by a pack of wolves? No. I could sense no fear in her image anymore. That was promising. I tried to calculate how much time would have passed since this ice age – I could deny it no longer – had started. The days were beginning to blur together and our cell phones had long run out of battery. We had no idea what day it was. We were exhausted and cold and it was getting extremely difficult to keep moving.
By Chanelle Joy5 years ago in Fiction
Film Flam
I. You have to literally be prepared for anything that comes your way as a superhero. Rescues from peril, dispersing angry mobs, protecting the needy and the oppressed, helping out friends in a jam. Those sorts of things. And you have to do those things with a sense of humour, and/or a cheerfulness that suggests that you live for any challenge coming down your way.
By David Perlmutter5 years ago in Fiction
Running With Wolves
In between trying to telepathically communicate with Rowen, I somehow managed to doze. It was 2:00 in the morning when Seth woke me to take my stint in the driver’s seat. Yawning, I rubbed my weary eyes. My brief slumber had been filled with horrifying nightmares and in no way restful. There was an all-night diner near where we had pulled up.
By Chanelle Joy5 years ago in Fiction
