Fantasy
7 Stones
"Hey, Saf, what's up? Did you do homework last night? Because I need the answers." Christiana said, pulling on my sleeve. She is so dumb. Why does she never do her homework? She does not have any extracurriculars, and she does not play sports. She has all the time in the world to complete school homework. I do not know why she waits for me to give her the answers. It is not a reliable work ethic, especially in college. Well, I guess Christiana does not have to try at all. She will end up going into her family business anyway.
By Ceo Of Dying5 years ago in Fiction
The Web
The dirty matted fur of the rat twitched back and forth shaking off the rusty mud of the old drainpipe, as its nose flared open and closed smelling the air for the tiniest scent of a possible meal or drink. Its ears scanned for any sound of life in the gentle breeze blowing through the cracked window. The morning’s dew droplets hung on the thin white threads of the large web. The thirsty rat ran across the large canvas book and stood on an old pile of brittle bones, carefully balancing on its thin hind legs. Up it reached with the front legs grasping in the air like an invisible ladder and nudged the web to free the suspended nectar into its mouth.
By christopher williams 5 years ago in Fiction
Naïve Wisdom
Beneath iridescent lights in the old library, I sat between two large bookshelves in the small nook that was created by the librarians for those who enjoy being hidden away. Having looked up from my leather-bound journal, I glanced around the floor looking for those I had never seen on my last visit. For a moment I glanced around and spot a young female with light brown hair that has been placed in a messily made bun. She sat in a lounge chair in what appeared to be the romance section. Her left elbow rested on the arm of the chair as she had begun to twirl a piece of hair around her index finger, all the while holding open a novel in her right hand.
By Somniare Omnia5 years ago in Fiction
Blade Song
The Gemstone Reaper: He’d exhausted his supply of Shimmers, smoke bombs, shadow walks and gas bombs in a futile attempt to escape the palace. The damned place was riddled with an ancient magic that made it harder to get out of than wet leathers. All that was left was running and, like any assassin worth his salt, he'd chosen to make the chase as difficult as possible. Though, he was worth much more than his salt.
By Carl Carter5 years ago in Fiction
The Tortured War
The Tortured War By: AKR Paykato Running, like water not always fast but always running. That was us. We were the water. Only, the contaminated water of running bodies that run no more. A water that no one dare sips, water used only to catch those who catch their fates. We dug their trenches. We sharpened their spikes, laid down their bedding, we balanced those ledges on both sides of the river. If they didn’t perish from the first isle of splintering spikes, they would certainly meet their match from the second. The defecated river would only consume you in time once seeping into the festering wounds opened by the water's teeth. Well...That was the story told. Most of it is true except the cruel treatment of the slaves and the hungry river. The tactics for the river were much cleverer. Sharpening every stone to a slicing edge alongside the spikes. Precautionary measures took hours, but everyone was forced to endure the times.
By Anastasia Rice5 years ago in Fiction
Appetite for Words. Top Story - December 2021.
I love shelving books. It’s meditative to float through the alphabet and institute a preciseness that each title deserves. There is a symmetry to it and an art to the spine-out, face-out flow. I smell each one and feel its texture. When the moment is right, I dive into the words to satisfy the craving. Everyone has their indulgences, addictions, but it has taken me time to embrace my unique abilities. Sometimes they scratch my skin, squeeze my windpipe, or even burn layers of skin. For too long I wondered what was real, the world inside their pages or the one where I actually breathe. The routine of keeping the books contained on their shelves keeps me grounded in this reality, even when I crave to be inside them.
By Susan Cardosi5 years ago in Fiction
The Tree of Clouds
A flock of airships littered the sky over the enrapturing world of Mitris. Each ship was more ornate than the other, some with gilded glistening gold, stretching from bow to stern. Others with ebony wood, adorning their mast with silk sails. Though not every ship was powered by the wind, all ships did use a large pearl-like signal stone at their core. Once powered by steam, these pearl stones could lift the heaviest objects in flight with no effort.
By Trei Feske5 years ago in Fiction
A Distant Land
A Distant Land Yeliah's Tale CHAPTER 1 The waves crashed violently upon the shoreline. Crushing blows tearing apart the small vegetation that had struggled to establish a foothold all throughout the spring and summer months. Yeliah stood on a knoll looking west towards the wide expanse of ocean. Her father had left a fortnight ago; paddling up the coast to trade with the northern village; resorting to using the ocean as his passageway since the fire had erupted on the mountain that they normally climbed over several months ago.
By Michael J Robinsmith5 years ago in Fiction
Farmageddon
Farmaggedon The Beginning of the End Chapter 1 – On the Road Two sets of tire tracks were imprinted in the soil in front of him. No telling if they were ahead of him or had passed south days ago. With no rain for the last six weeks, the heavy soil on the road revealed little of the riders of the motorcycles that had left the tracks. That they were carrying a heavy load on what appeared to be dirt bikes was the only tell-tale sign someone had been passed here.
By Michael J Robinsmith5 years ago in Fiction
