Fantasy
Ten By Ten
It took quite a long time before anyone was able to piece together what had happened, what was still happening. We now know that on Dec. 3, 2027 at approximately 10pm the formerly dead started coming back in spirit form, as ghosts, to use the vernacular. Not just the recently deceased either, but all of them, all of the dead, everyone who had ever died on planet earth, at any time since the dawn of consciousness in man (or thereabouts), had come back as a ghost. These ghosts were of the particularly frustrating, annoying and sometimes, though infrequently, deadly variety. They had a knack for releasing piercing wails at all hours of the day or night, scratching or biting the still living, and any other number of habits all seemingly designed to irritate, bother, and generally make living with or near them, downright impossible. And, unfortunately, as you might imagine, there were quite a lot of them. Estimates put the number at greater than 100 billion. For comparison the earth's population at the time of the rising was right around 7 billion. The dead outnumbered the living by a little over ten to one. The excess of ghosts to living humans has increased significantly since that time, mostly as a result of the actions of the ghosts themselves, but also, that of the living, and how we reacted to them.
By Everyday Junglist4 years ago in Fiction
Smile a snowman
The next day, the town we lived in was covered with a thick blanket of snow, and the shy pink face of the sun was like a warm lamp hanging in the east, shining white on the snow-covered streets. People came out of the snow and the town came alive. Children in the snow on the foot of the deep footprints, the sole of the constantly singing "squeak" song. A large forklift plowed snow from the road, and soon the black tarmac was exposed, like a pair of shears cutting through the snow that covered the town. Most of the people picked up the shovel, have their own snow shovel, snow piles, these snow piles, like a white round mushroom on both sides of the street......
By graig asaph4 years ago in Fiction
Alanus
Unfortunately, finding Agron was much easier said than done. Haganto sighed as he poured some rabbit stew into his bowl, causing Animo to climb out of his pocket and sniff after he jumped onto his arm. Even though they had only met each other a few days ago, the baby weasel’s ribcage was no longer visible and he had enough energy to not constantly need to nap throughout the day. Haganto had even managed to comb out his matted fur, though there were times he had accidentally been too rough, causing Animo to squeal and struggle till Haganto calmed him again. Animo didn’t make any moves to escape though, and he was pretty happy to play with Haganto later so the half-ogre figured he had been forgiven.
By Rebecca Patton4 years ago in Fiction
Horseshoe's Luck
A newt? He turned me into a newt! Of all the foul luck. He had to sneak into a warlock’s abode, when he could have just picked another house or just not bother taking to burglary. What did his mother say? Oh yes. ‘Braydon, stealing will catch up to you and make you small’ or something of that nature. He usually just ignores his mother anyways, but a newt? It was a cosmic joke, it had to be.
By Walter Trentin4 years ago in Fiction
Outsider: Chapter 18
Melrakki groaned and turned over for what felt like the hundredth time that night. Her lower back ached and her stomach was heavy and swollen. She was miserable and so tired that her brain felt as if it had been removed from her skull. Ulf was snoring beside her, his arm across her protectively. Normally she could not sleep without him near her, but tonight his touch felt like a brand on her already warm skin. Her whole body was far too warm, except for her hands which were cold as ice.
By Klaire de Lys4 years ago in Fiction
