family
We Were. Top Story - January 2024.
Two hours later, the space between the frantic crying of my human and the ringing of silence collide to taunt me. As I lie motionless in this crevice I barely even know myself anymore. One thing I am certain of is my memory is much more acute than that of my human, for I recall in vivid detail how I ended up here, while she on the other hand, has not one inclination of where I can be found. The wonder if ever to be found, has come up several times, but I have always been more of an optimist so I do not dwell long on this thought.
By Pōlani Monderen 3 years ago in Fiction
World in Tatters Ch. 22
I decided to take a bit of a nap while we wait for sunset, since I didn’t get to sleep last night. Luckily, since the storm passed, the midday air is cool and comfortable. I pick out a spot in the shade of a large oak away from the others and plant myself against the trunk. I look up, taking in the cloudy azure sky before drifting off to sleep.
By Kevin Barkman3 years ago in Fiction
The' hope
In the quiet town of Everlight, nestled between rolling hills and fields of wildflowers, there was a phenomenon that captivated the hearts of its inhabitants. A centuries-old legend spoke of a hidden source of endless hope, a wellspring that could be found by those whose spirits were pure and intentions true.
By QuietRiddle Arthi3 years ago in Fiction
The snow won't stop me
Lark looked down at her pink boots as she slowly made her way down the sidewalk. She knew she had to make it to her friends house. Especially since she had just spent an hour convincing her parents to let her walk in the worst snowstorm that their town had seen in twenty years. On top of the argument with her parents she had to pay her brother so she could barrow his ski goggles. However, none of that would matter as long as she made it Cindy's house for their sleepover. They had been planning this for weeks and Lark would not let snow get in her way. Lark had been having a hard time making friends at the private school her parents had made her go to. She had been very lonely until she met Cindy in art club. The snow continued to pour down from the sky and she could no longer feel her nose. she kept her thoughts focused on the sleepover but is was getting harder to see. She looked up and she could see that she was by the park now. It would normally only take her about three minutes to walk to Cindy's house from here but the deep snow slowed her down. She focused on making one step at a time she was going to prove to everyone that she could do this. She kept taking steps until she could see the house. She knocked and Cindy opened the door and smiled.
By Christina Epperly3 years ago in Fiction
Berganashio - Chapter 1
Once upon a time, there was a family of tiny otters. This breed of otters was affectionately called totters. There was a terrible storm that blew apart their home. They rebuilt a new home, but it just wasn't the same. Life for the family did not feel as happy as it used to be. They did not play like they used to. The river felt colder and uninviting. Papa totter didn’t smoke his pipe anymore. Momma totter didn’t like to sew anymore. Sister totter didn’t play with her dolls anymore. Brother totter didn’t like his trains very much anymore. Momma totter started to leave on some nights. She would go on long walks, but no one knew where to. Then one night she never came back. Papa totter cried and cried. His heart was broken more than ever before. Brother totter thought it was all his fault. Sister totter thought it was her fault.
By Rowan Finley 3 years ago in Fiction
One Man's Skating Pond. Content Warning.
When my children were young we homeschooled. Winter sports activities were limited when you had no Gymnasium, so we improvised. As I was drinking my morning Tequila and getting ready for a dull day of reading, writing, and arithmetic, I spied a shiny ribbon of ice, nestled in a wooded area just beyond our yard, in no man's land.
By Tina D'Angelo3 years ago in Fiction
Stretching Poor (aka. The Work House)
The last night you spend with your children is the most precious, and the most horrifying few hours of your life. Being poor is stretching. Stretching every penny, stretching your luck, stretching the goodwill of others. All to stretch out the survival of your children, if not yourself.
By L.C. Schäfer3 years ago in Fiction
