Excerpt
A Solar Oydessy
It’s been a long time since I’ve been really afraid of dying. In my, almost five billion years alive, death is still a certainty. Just not by old age anymore. Science once improved so much that medicine allowed the body to decay slower, and last as long as the heart is still beating.
S. M. RisdonPublished 3 years ago in FictionA Fox Went Out And I Still Remember
An old folk song from England speaks of a weary fox, out collecting food for his family. The song, originally a poem, dates back at least 500 years and is quite adorable. I'm not sure how common the song is in America, but I remember it from my childhood. I do know that the poem and song are popular enough that they've been turned into picture books for children. The Fox Went Out on a Chilly Night: an old song, illustrated by Peter Spier and Fox Went out on a Chilly Night, by Wendy Watson. Spier was a Dutch-American illustrator and writer who produced over two dozen children's books. He sadly passed away in 2017. Meanwhile, Watson is a third-generation author and artist, and member of the Authors Guild.
Daniel GoldmanPublished 3 years ago in FictionA Different World
Part 3 Mia didn’t think when she got the Heart-shaped locket where it would lead her to. “Let’s get to it Mia,” John remarked. “This has just become extremely intriguing”. “I’d like that John, I’m feeling somewhat nervous though”. According to what Granddad wrote we have to stand facing the heat so the only thing I can think of is the fireplace. And the red and white could mean blood cells or the dark red bricks and off white mortar, and the hearth is the bottom part of the fireplace”. What do you think John? Could that be it”?
Graeme WaddellPublished 3 years ago in FictionAPOCALYPTIC ANARCHIST
The distinct sound of the click-clacking of typewriter keys is what first roused her. A mish-mash in her dream that wrought the attention of how much her body ached; complimented only by the soreness in her face. She strained to open her eyes but only her right eyelid contested the swelling. Her surroundings revealed a room with peach colored walls decorated with decals like rainbows, stars, and little sayings like "Believe" and "Star That Outshines Them All". It was clearly the room of a little girl.
Meditations After The End Of The World
Together the crone and I walked in country by sea an afternoon late that summer. Having left through a pass in the southern hills we started out not long after dawn. The sun in our eyes and harsh bearing upon us. Along past the winding hills turned northeast down a disserviced road; an hour later cleared a wooded area, diverged onto a rubble backroad and started coming back closer to the water.
James B. William R. LawrencePublished 3 years ago in FictionWaiting for the Sun to Rise
Two arches. A point. Two arches. A point. Over and over again. He’d done this many times. He knew this shape well. Mindlessly, his finger traced the heart in the filthy dust that seemed to coat everything down here. It was easy to ignore the dull chatter of the others despite how gratingly their voices bounced off the stone walls. He’d been around long enough to get used to it; for it to be just one of the many things pushed to the background.
Mai Ly NguyenPublished 3 years ago in FictionTransference
This is my 110th owner. I am not sure of the year anymore. I lost track after my 80th owner; around the year 2081. The cracks began to form around 2045 and day after day they get bigger in size. The Atlantic Ocean has one big waterfall; but you still cannot see the ocean floor. Some states have become islands and the Earth’s natural beauty has be drastically altered.
Death Week
Wind blows my hair back and away from my face. My gaze darts from one end of the street to the other as I hide in between two shops. The air is cold but sweat still rolls down my forehead anticipating a group of Reapers to show up any moment. Assholes who simply take joy in killing.
S. M. RisdonPublished 3 years ago in FictionVendra
Vendra by Brett Tyndall Pain jolted throughout my body, hitting every nerve end. I felt a dampness around me, but it was too dark for me to tell if it was rain or blood. I was buried in wet rubble and debris from the explosion. I needed to get out of this pile. I felt around my uniform, which was dying from a lack of solar energy. I noticed one of the vials around my waist was empty. I assumed the suit shot me with HE/LP, or Healing Emergency/Life Preserver. The serum was only good for broken bones and blood loss, so I guess none of my organs failed. The suit would tell me if it wasn’t running out of energy. I didn’t bring a backup vial. I didn’t think I would need it.
Brett TyndallPublished 3 years ago in FictionEsther's Hope
When the world of technology fell, so did the world of men. When money was lost forever in scrambled bank files, and power loss plunged the modern world into darkness, the abhorrent riots began. Individuals plundered shops and valuables with no consequence, and eliminated those who dared to oppose them; while families fled in the hopes they could find somewhere free of the violence and panic.
Karina BrownPublished 3 years ago in FictionTo Hear the Heart
Jacob let the children touch his ears, their eyes wide round orbs of amazement. The young girl squealed softly, then moved her hands in a frenzy of motion to communicate. Soft and fuzzy. Jacob smiled in spite of himself and replied, Yes. The young boy, clearly the older brother in the way he contained his excitement as if such an emotion was beneath him, turned to his parents and signed, Ears. Have you ever seen them before? The parents stood back, apprehensive and uncertain like animals sensing a trap. No, came their mother’s curt reply as she beckoned for her children to return. Their father’s head turned on a swivel, no doubt looking for the Juments, the not-so-secret police of The Party who hunted the hearing with a brutal ruthlessness.
Lucas WolfePublished 3 years ago in FictionFirst Chapter of "His Blood on my Hands(and on my living room carpet)
It wasn’t supposed to end like this. He was never supposed to know. He was never supposed to get into this. And now he’s bleeding out on my living room floor.
Kara ThomasPublished 3 years ago in Fiction