Adventure
Dust, Rust, & the Sifting Sand Blues
Dust, Rust, & the Sifting Sand Blues "It’s not about losing; it’s about the sovereign act of starting again." This visual album is a 26-year "blues scheme" finally brought to life. I first built these dreams in a sandbox back in 2000, but it took two decades of sifting through the dust of the river and the rust of the city to truly hear the melody.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 8 months ago in Fiction
MARVEL/DC COMICS PRESENTS #14
Apocalypse/Darkseid The Skies Above Ancient Egypt 2939 BC The war was over. The great enemy had returned. He brought his mighty ships and descended upon the nation of Egypt. The then ruler of the land, En Sabah Nur, fought the invasion with his lieutenants, the Four Horsemen. They fought valiantly and kept the great enemy at bay for weeks before they were defeated. The Horsemen were killed, and their leader was captured and tortured.
By Derrick Billups 8 months ago in Fiction
Asklipiou Recipes. Winner in Rituals of Affection Challenge.
Nicola and I have this strange habit, perhaps it's better to call it a hobby. Because a 'hobby' is fun and a habit is something usually not fun, or like smoking, only a little bit fun and with a larger downside.
By Scott Christenson🌴8 months ago in Fiction
The White Hare's Revenge
Tobias Cullen had always been a quiet boy, meek and timid, with wide, innocent eyes that rarely made contact with others. He lived on a small, isolated farm at the edge of the village of Dunsfield, a place where the ground was barren, and the seasons seemed to pass by in slow, cruel cycles. He had been tormented by the villagers for as long as he could remember—called names, pushed into ditches, humiliated at every turn. They called him "the hare," mocking his pale skin and slight frame. Every Easter, when the town came alive with celebration and laughter, Tobias was forgotten. His existence was as invisible to them as the soft whispers of the wind.
By V-Ink Stories8 months ago in Fiction
Vanished. Content Warning.
Content Warning: Mention of possible suicide Vanished D. A. Ratliff I had come to despise fog. Fog on the bridge to Cavanah Point didn’t creep in on “little cat feet,” as Carl Sandberg wrote, but arrived with a vengeance, sweeping across the bay below and enveloping the bridge in a thick gray cloud. It was a day like this one when Jason disappeared into the dense mist.
By D. A. Ratliff8 months ago in Fiction
War of the Americas Chapter XX
Author’s preface: This is Chapter 20 in the ongoing War of the Americas series. If you have not read any of the previous 19 installments, don’t worry, you are like 99.9996% of people and each is written in such a way as to be enjoyable as a mini/micro fiction story on their own. Of course reading the entire series is recommended for the full effect. If you want to start at the beginning the full series can be on Vocal by searching or visiting my homepage. This series is a fictional account about a war between the United States and Mexico and takes place in the present day. It features some characters including the President of the United States and the President of Mexico who are real, others who are partly fictional, and others who are entirely made up. I won’t repeat my full disclaimer but it never hurts to emphasize once again that this is a fictional account. I have no special knowledge of the politics, military, operational, police, special forces, or any other inner workings of the government of either country. All the knowledge I do have has been obtained from reading publicly available documents and/or listening to others who do have such knowledge.
By Everyday Junglist8 months ago in Fiction
The Box
"I'm telling you, Man: it's real, and it's worth a fortune!" Duke had that look in his eyes again. Somewhere between a kid on Christmas morning, and a crackhead looking for his next fix. The last time Ronny had seen it, he spent two months in the hospital recovering from a weird, tropical fever nobody still could tell him the name of. The time before that, he'd spent three weeks rotting in a Mexican prison. Which he vowed never to speak of again.
By Natalie Gray8 months ago in Fiction
