Fantasy
Bane's Talisman
I find myself clutching my mother’s long lost relic. I grasp my heart as tightly as humanly possible and immediately am overcome with happiness. There is no worry here; no pain or suffering. The only judgment is my own. I can smile and laugh and enjoy my mother’s presence. Today is a beautiful day. The birds are singing carols, the air is crisp and clean, and the sun breathes new life on me. Today is a perfect day for a walk in the park to celebrate the joys of life. Our dog, Hutch is with us. He is a remarkably sweet Sheltie worth more than gold. We begin to play fetch. I enjoy throwing the frisbee, but his brown, fraying tennis ball is his favorite. We spend hours, the 3 of us, enjoying every last moment together. Eventually we make our way back home. My favorite meal is on the dining table, ready for me to dig in. How I have missed my mom’s famous lasagna. She would only make it for special occasions. We stayed up late playing games and telling stories, until eventually my heavy eyes gave in and I fell asleep.
By Carver Phippen3 years ago in Fiction
LOVE'S LOCKET
Time slows in the unraveling of a fractured world that finally falls - no longer sustainable. Private corporations develop commercial space travel and other habitable zones are discovered. In a move to protect their interests and save lives, they leave the dying planet to colonize another world, they call Keplar. The exodus begins quietly and builds gradually until the last lottery ticket is drawn and those who could afford the tickets have already gone. Anger and resentment are all that remain.
By Darren Thompson3 years ago in Fiction
Crow's Flight
The final battle narrative was demonstrably false. It was heavily dramatized, created to appeal to masses of adventure-seeking readers and excitable children. In truth, every battle seems like the final one. Every clash of swords feels like the one to break you, every parried thrust feels like the last one you could ever take, and either your faith in your cause forces you to push past the aching muscles and despair, or it doesn’t. Or it’s too weak, and you crumble like paper in the palm of your hand.
By Raphael Schultz3 years ago in Fiction
The Scout
Today was the day for Blake. Routines had been established for the survival of the Roberts Clan. What used to be parklike beauty in the mountains of The former state of North Carolina, in the former United States of America, were now ugly growths of weeds interspersed with great stretches' of barren rock. Grim reminders of the Final American Conflict were everywhere. The Roberts Clan had managed to find a small valley that was hard to find and easy to defend. Still, vigilance had to be maintained.
By Joseph C Thornsbury3 years ago in Fiction
Loon
From far across the field of ice, we saw the smoke. The sun had polished the snow to mirror brightness and we hurried, fearing what the smoke foretold. But the beasts that pull our supply sleds can only trundle through the crusted drifts so fast. Too slow, too slow - but nothing could be fast enough, for my sister was there.
By Danielle Loewen3 years ago in Fiction
Sisters of Apathetic Mercy
The Sisters of Apathetic Mercy were not like other Orders; instead of spending their time praising their god, they spent most of the time fixing his mistakes. It was into this Order that a girl who had once been known by the name of Evelyn was recruited.
By Rayne Goblinkore3 years ago in Fiction
Beneath the surface
"Put that down dear..."She trailed off. "Lost things from before..." I could see her pondering her next words, turning them over in her mind, analyzing them carefully, as to choose the best ones. Right as I was about to put my unwanted two cents in, without skipping a beat she jumped right back into it, " ..Simply are not meant to be found. That's why they're called lost things. Isn't that right, dear?"
By Seminole Fraley3 years ago in Fiction
The White House by the Sea
What will become of the world, little one? How will we make and unmake things Until they are strange and new? * They lived in the white house on the outcrop by the sea. The wind was always blowing and the days were always a half-darkness of dense grey clouds, syltasi’va in the tongue of their grandmother. Always, the clouds.
By Conor McCammon3 years ago in Fiction
Bound
The many times I have walked down this corridor, never have I ever been this angry and grateful. "Why did you decide on me," I asked after about ten minutes of suspenseful silence. ' No reply. Of course, I should have known. If you are not one of them, you are not worth a word.' "Well, anyways , thank you." " You're welcome. Now listen, I am going to go ahead and inform you of some of the things you will need to know about Vanaura. She loves playing games, and unlike most of the Opal clan, she is more sensitive. . . " At that word, I recalled all the rumors I had heard about her ability. What would she sense in me? My hatred for the way things were set up, or perhaps she would sense I hate being a prisoner. The questions just continued to race through my mind as Danq continued escorting me. I realized where he led me when I heard him knock. The screech the hinges made made me cringe and know they had yet to be oiled this month. We both walked in, our "prizes" were practicing for the next annual trade. Andreo, David, and Vanaura were all sitting at the jeweled table. Every clan had one that was decorated in the oldest gems that they had at their disposal.
By Cody Kennedy3 years ago in Fiction