family
Flight of the Tide Pilots. Runner-Up in Fantasy Prologue II Challenge. Top Story - November 2024.
The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished. I was awoken by a rumble like a broadhead stampede passing through our farmhouse. I rolled off my bed and under its frame. My little brother, Edgard, was already under his – barely two years old, his eyes as wide as owls.
By Addison Alder2 years ago in Fiction
The patchwork quilt. Top Story - November 2024.
Nestled in a grove of stately oaks, a small, welcoming cabin stood like a peaceful refuge against the crisp autumn air. The earthy brown walls of the wooden hut glowed softly in the golden light of the setting sun.
By Laura.the.writer2 years ago in Fiction
The Stress of Surviving
Fig and her two children stayed at my place for a few nights after Uncle Georgio was taken to the hospital. It was cramped and crowded, but we made it work while she figured out what to do next. Uncle Georgio awoke from his comotosed state after a day in the hospital, so by the time Fig found out where he was and went to see him, he was conscious. He had taken too many sleeping pills with alcohol and it had knocked him out in a severe way. When Fig was visiting him at his hospital room, he wasn't speaking very well. His words were slurring and stuttering making it difficult to understand him. He had written a note to Fig, even though his handwriting wasn't much better, explaining that he was not going to go to Virginia, and that he had decided to give her the house to raise the kids in. Fig was a mixture of relieved and overwhelmed at the same time. Happy that she didn't have to move, yet uncertain of how to deal with a damaged house and an unwell Uncle.
By Shanon Angermeyer Norman2 years ago in Fiction
The Saga of the Unconscious Immaterium
The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished. It was this sequence of events which finally unclogged the writer’s block in Jack’s brain, washing it away in a surge of inspiration that flooded his brain as he retrieved the queen from under the couch, happy to see that she’d landed on the carpet and had not broken her fragile wings. That morning, from the upstairs deck, he’d seen the alarming sight of the river running against its usual course, but having become particularly adept at mental gymnastics over the past year of living with his father, he attributed the water’s strange activity to further shenanigans from the quantum server farm being built upstream and went about his day
By J. Otis Haas2 years ago in Fiction
