Fantasy
Midnight Born
If only walls could talk—it’s a catchy if not unremarkable thing most of us say in passing. Only select few have ever witnessed such an occurrence—after all, who would believe them if they told? It’s genius really—something Abigail Hensley had grown up hearing—“mind the walls my dear, careful what you say. They’re always watching, always listening.”
By K.H. Obergfoll4 years ago in Fiction
"A Journey to the End of the Rainbow"
Good morning everyone. I'm here today to share with you a story that has inspired me and touched my heart in so many ways. This story is about a young adventurer, who sets out on a quest to find the end of a rainbow and the legendary pot of gold that is said to reside there. It's a story about courage, determination, and the beauty of life's journey.
By Paul Andrew4 years ago in Fiction
The Winter's Tale
What a big snow! Big and small mountains become fluffy white buns. From under the eaves of the tiled house, two sparrows flew, chirping, and alighting on the bald branches of the old elm tree, rustling their feathers and turning their little heads about. They had been hungry all day and were desperate for something to eat. The sparrows were flapping about in the snow, looking for something to eat. However, they are disappointed, the world in addition to white or white.
By Lee ZhenPo4 years ago in Fiction
‘Falling for Christmas’ Review: Tripped Down Memory Lane
The allure of a genuine comeback for Lindsay Lohan is more driven by media headlines than by the details. Her first lead role in over a decade is generating more buzz than the actual movie. For those who grew up with an interest in pop culture, her rollercoaster life has sparked a desire to see her succeed, despite negative perceptions from tabloids and the industry.
By Winner grace!!4 years ago in Fiction
The Rabbit The Weasel And The Cat
1 .The Rabbit The Weasel And The Cat A Rabbit left his home one day for a dinner of clover. But he forgot to latch the door of his house and while he was gone a Weasel walked in and calmly made himself at home. When the Rabbit returned, there was the Weasel's nose sticking out of the Rabbit's own doorway, sniffing the fine air.
By Anmol Shukla4 years ago in Fiction
The cosmic bookshop
The book shop felt oppressively narrow, a feeling that wasn't helped by the fact that air hung thick with dust and the scent of musty old books. The shop consisted of two parallel corridors flanked with bookshelves that disappeared back into darkness; each bookshelf bowed under its heavy load. The man behind the battered wooden counter seemed almost catatonic, despite his stupor he sat bolt upright on a three legged wooden stool, no mean feat considering his obviously advanced age. Peter moved further into the shop, past the old man, down one of the aisles, noticing immediately how the book lined walls deadened all sound from outside. He sauntered down the book lined passage, eyes sliding over the typical assortment of second hand books- entire shelfs of unread biographies and walls of literary classics studied in every school up and down the country. However he noticed as he continued that only one copy of each book appeared on the shelves, no duplicates. Determined to find a double he delved deeper into the shop. Passing countless alcoves containing old threadbear armchairs with a reading light above them, he continued. The books seemed to become older and less distinctive; the faded fabric covers with paling gilt titles on their spines seemed to blur into one monotone shelf.
By Joe Forsyth4 years ago in Fiction
Tales of London #17
When Robert woke up, he was alone in bed. He felt tired and somewhat disoriented, and he wasn’t sure why being alone in his own bed felt wrong. Then the memories from yesterday hit him: the bar and the Goddess, ghouls, kissing, Jenna in his bed, and some more ghouls and kissing, priorities not necessarily being in that order.
By John H. Knight4 years ago in Fiction
