Fantasy
The Lone Wanderer Chronicles: The Beginning
As the Lone Wanderer, I am a survivor of the Great Impact that nearly obliterated Earth and decimated the population beyond imaginable. The impact was a cataclysmic event that occurred many years ago, and its aftermath left the world in ruins. The air is thick with dust and radiation, making it difficult to breathe and survive for extended periods of time. The few remaining pockets of civilization are scattered throughout the wasteland, and they are often hotbeds of violence, corruption, and despair.
By Omar Sohail4 years ago in Fiction
The north-facing wall
If walls could talk, I would have so many stories to share. For centuries, I have stood here, silently watching the events that have taken place in front of me. I am the north-facing wall of the oldest church in the town, and I have seen everything from weddings to funerals, from joyous celebrations to somber memorials.
By Marc-André Paquin4 years ago in Fiction
I Paid My Dues(edited)
I Paid my Dues The world is dark and dreary. That phrase kept going through my head. Where have I heard it before? I couldn’t tell you. No one could. Because I am the only one here now. My friends are gone. My family is gone. The world is dark and dreary. The shadowed steads ride over the plains outside my little sanctuary. My hole in the wall, where no one can reach. Because no one is around to even notice me. The world has gone dark, and dreary.
By Elisha Jones4 years ago in Fiction
The Bluest Man in Babylon
“If walls could talk…,” is what they say. Even back before The BlueTime, people would imagine that the partitions of their domiciles, if they had merely mouths, would be impartial observers, eager to give up their secrets in gossipy torrents. That was long, long ago and I am eager. Let me tell you a story.
By J. Otis Haas4 years ago in Fiction
Edward the prince | love at love at first sight a witch's daughter,
Once upon a time, in a far-off land, there was a kind and noble prince named Edward. One day, as he was riding through a small village, he caught sight of a beautiful girl with long, dark hair and sparkling eyes. He was immediately smitten, but he soon found out that she was the daughter of a powerful witch who lived in the woods outside of the village.
By Emmanuel Andrew4 years ago in Fiction
Paint Me, Dreamer
If walls could talk, I would fill your ears with feelings that come in tremors. Vibrations. I keep them like heirlooms in a time capsule. ¾ time. 6/8 time. Four-on-the-floor. Flowing as it rolls around me. Entrancing. The beautiful noise simmers. Then rises to crescendo – harmony in waves. The curious fly sits and listens. A nosey little thing. Nature’s spy. Interesting tidbit – flies are actually great conversationalists believe it or not. Chatty Cathy’s. Sounds like buzzing to the human ear – that may or may not be by design. They get around too much to be trusted – as I see it – or live very long. But the noisy little spy knows well the tale I tell – of the sonic soul of the pianist.
By Kristen Keenon Fisher4 years ago in Fiction
''If walls could talk'' A fiction story
I am a wall, made of rough bricks, and I have seen and heard many things throughout my life. People often talk to me, but I cannot answer back. However, there was a time when I could speak, and this is the story of that time.
By Majid Hussain4 years ago in Fiction











