Adventure
In-pasta bull run
Sploosh. A red tepid rain washed over the unsuspecting nine-year-old clad in white, a groan escaped her as she spat out a mouthful of the watery sauce. The herbal scent burned her nose as she looked towards the sky and saw a busboy rushing away from an upper window, the girl closed her eyes. Inhaling deeply she slowly opened her eyes gray blue, reflecting the cloudy sky above her the girl brushed the sauce from her face with her sleeve. Pale tanned skin stained red from the lingering heat and tomato made her look feverish, her platinum white hair was holding the color as well as her formerly white blouse. A sigh spilled from her lips.
By Crystal Ayers5 years ago in Fiction
The Minotaur
“You must pick one,” he commanded. I cowered before him. He was massive. Broad and thick with densely wrapped muscle enveloping his body. So substantial it was as if he were made of stone, but for the ease of his movement. His features were exaggerated. His nose, round as a saucer. His ears pointed, but folded, with that familiar flop of a canine’s, surreptitiously designed to alert him to the sound of a brittle leaf crackling underneath a distant footstep. His cheeks had that child-like fullness to them, a heaviness that left him with the slightest hint of a droop at his jawline. One might almost mistake him for precocious, bearing such childlike features. But his years were belied by his eyes. His large, cavernous eyes were silky black. Not demonic, they were not void of expression – but so dark it was as if they trapped the memories of 100 midnight skies within them. And the horns. Shorter than I imagined for a Minotaur, but thick and scarred. Honed. He stood 10 feet tall, and when he spoke downward toward me his voice was so heavy and so deep I felt the soft earth beneath my feet tremble from the reverberation of it.
By Loretta BR5 years ago in Fiction
The Running Man
I was standing inside the train station, it was so quiet that the sound off the smallest fly could be heard from the echoes of the train station. It must have been three in the morning, that is when the only other man in the train station, a man who stood next to me for a small period of time began running and launching his body in the air with intense force and without hesitation. His bright orange uniform vest began to fall off his shoulders from his rapid movements, as he would propell his body to hold on to objects like an acrobatic gorilla. In a matter of seconds he found himself at the other end of the train station. With his hands hanging from a pole, he took a moment to align his body to the pole, then took a deep breathe to shout "I am a force of nature, one with God in pursuit of peace!" Listening to his excitement; I left the train station walking up the stairs to the nearest exit.
By Genesis Smalls5 years ago in Fiction
The Roar
Somewhere above, Leo could hear the chaotic cheers of the blood thirsty crowd. Their roar seemed to echo beyond the walls of the colosseum and out into the world; calling to the gods to acknowledge the sacrifice of the fallen and the valor of falling in battle.
By Rachael Hamilton5 years ago in Fiction
Don’t Make Eye Contact!
“Don‘t make eye contact” she screamed! It was a chilly, cloudy, ominous sort of day on the prairies. We thought we would venture out, going for a long drive way back into the park. The road is long lined with aspen and birch trees, casting shadows onto the dirt. We double check that the gas tank is full, learning from past mistakes. The journey will be exciting, with high hopes of spotting various wildlife!
By Holly Allison-Kay5 years ago in Fiction
Lurking in the Lake: The Dive
Penticton, British Columbia is a beautiful place and the best place that Jade has ever known. She is born and raised here. Luckily, she gets to come back as often as possible when she has some downtime in the Aquarium. Her best friend Miles is still here and that is reason enough to come back. Right now, they are sitting in their favorite pub called, “The Barking Parrot.” A place where the wall-paper is odd, the pictures capture your imagination, and fun is always on the menu along with some very tasty food. But the real reason why they keep going there is because it has a breath-taking view of the Okanagan Lake. Together, they order the taco bowl along with a couple of giant drinks called “the parrot punch.” Both delicious and good for the soul.
By Erika Ravnsborg5 years ago in Fiction
The Labyrinth
The stone walls had that clammy quality that made them seem alive, sweating. This prison was like some living, breathing thing that had swallowed men whole. Rusty, metal bars, it’s rancid teeth. Tomas sat slumped in the corner, observing those around him with narrowed eyes. Every so often he’d scratch nervously at bristles emerging on a face once kept religiously smooth. He wondered what he’d expected when going into war. It seemed so long ago and so childishly ridiculous, the hopes and visions he’d had, that they’d melted clean out of his memory.
By Nessy Writer5 years ago in Fiction
July in Northern England
I stood at the wooden fence, the English summer sun beating down on me. Despite the sunshine, it was a brisk morning. I was wearing gray sweatpants tucked into Steph’s Wellington boots. The dirt path through the countryside was muddy from the drizzle the night before.
By Amy Writes5 years ago in Fiction
