Adventure
Midnight Train
Once upon a time, in a small town nestled between rolling hills and meandering rivers, there was an old train station. The station had weathered many years, its timeworn bricks and rusty rails telling stories of countless journeys and adventures. However, there was one train that captured the imagination of the townspeople - the Midnight Train.
By Samrah nadeem3 years ago in Fiction
They Thought He Was a Goner
I've got troubles of my own. I was born there. I was nursed there, and I hunted my first mouse there! Yes, my dam was watching the whole time, to make sure I got the hang of it. And I wasn't rude enough to lay it on the doorstep like some uneducated tomcat, I ate it properly as befits my status. Mama raised me right – you kill it, you eat it.
By Meredith Harmon3 years ago in Fiction
The Lighthouse at the Edge of Existence
The sea stretched out endlessly in all directions, a vast expanse that seemed to touch the edge of existence itself. At the heart of this delicate seascape stood the Lighthouse at the Edge of Existence, a beacon that transcended the fabric of reality. Its pulsating light cut through the veil between dimensions, guiding lost souls caught in the cosmic currents.
By Dim Esther3 years ago in Fiction
The Lost Kingdom of Shadows
In a realm where the sun reigned supreme, untouched by the mysteries of shadow, lived a young cartographer named Evan. His world, awash in perpetual daylight, was a tapestry of well-trodden lands and well-mapped territories. Evan, with his quill and parchment, was the master of charting the known, the familiar, the safe.
By Maple In Spring3 years ago in Fiction
Barfi Shodi: You've Been Snowed
"Ali, I will give you this. You must run fast. Faster than ever in your life, before the snowflakes melt. Please don't get caught..." Joyously dancing in the snowfall, Jamshed hands Ali the enclosed envelope, made out of quick paper, stuffed with a fistful of snow. Jamshed returns inside, closes the door and watches Ali pacing through snowflakes. Within minutes Ali is running so fast toward the closed door and a crowd of young boys chasing him. Jamsheed rushes to open the gate and closes the door on the face of the panting young faces.
By Parwana Fayyaz3 years ago in Fiction
Brothers of Black Stone | Pt. 3
Sicily | July 10th | 1943 Garret used the combat knife to cut a slit in the fabric of Tim’s pants, and revealed the gunshot wound. Without any syrettes, there was nothing he could do to lessen the pain, but that mattered little. Tim’s paleness and lack of awareness were tell-tale signs of shock, and the bullet unfortunately severed his femoral artery. There was nothing he could do. Garret held his friend’s hands in his own, and stayed with him until his eyes rolled back, exposing their white bellies. He stayed with Tim until the end.
By Kale Sinclair3 years ago in Fiction
Battling Guilt Part 7: More of Petra &Ivan's Origin Romance
Petra wasn't completely unappealing herself, although her own looks weren't a particular concern of hers. Still, looking at her wasn't a pain at all. She was 5'1 with a thick and muscular yet petite frame, her eyes a deep brown and dark brown hair that flowed right below her shoulders, highlighting her olive tone skin that nearly boasted of no blemishes, except for an occasional zit at her jaw line or forehead temples. And her cute little heart shaped face made it hard to take her serious when she was upset. So it was no wonder that Ivan seemed to be enraptured by her beauty.
By dre.amerwithapen3 years ago in Fiction
Fluffy Protection
As she drove slowly through the snowfall, Willow realized that she didn’t like snow anymore. When she was a kid, she thought she would never get tired of the pretty white flakes but now, when she was an adult and had to go to work regardless, Willow didn’t like it. It made the roads slippery and since Willow wasn’t the most confident driver, that alone made her more anxious. And she didn’t even have the benefit of playing in it.
By Rebecca Patton3 years ago in Fiction
Herald of Winter's Chill
Eira Astair, a bard by trade, stood outside the Alabaster Arrow, pouting. Her performance had not gone as planned, but it was far from the worst she had ever given. She took solace in that, breathing deep the chill night air. Drifts of fresh-fallen snow blew gently in the light wind. Eira was at home in the icy chill of newly fallen snow. A winter spirit, the cold did not bother her like other mortals. Holding her hand to catch a few flakes, they didn’t melt. The cold was why she ventured to Illux City in the first place. It was mesmerizing this time of year, with its towers covered in glittering frost and ice. Walking with her lute in hand, she begins plucking a few strings.
By S.N. Evans3 years ago in Fiction
