Fantasy
Close the Door Behind You from the Frozen Pond
Close the Door Behind you from the Frozen Pond From the start, as we walked across the Frozen Pond I began to feel something differently than walking on a sheet of ice. The frozen pond wasn’t what it appeared to be. The images that reflected from underneath the would be frozen pond make you think that someone or something was living in the glazed over water n I don’t mean fish. Somehow, we got stranded out here and we didn’t know which way was right because all the roads leading away from the frozen pond was just another dead end with no way out, but we seemed to always find our way back here. So we split up to go into different directions this time to see if one of us could find help to come back for everyone else.
By Gayland Coles5 years ago in Fiction
A Plain Woman
Sandra Smith was a plain woman with a plain life. She worked in an office, in a large building of offices, in a neighborhood with many office buildings just like it. Every day, she ate one of three sandwiches for lunch: tuna, turkey, or a BLT with honey mustard. She clocked in at 8 am, and caught the train home at 4:35 pm. Two days a week she stopped at the market around the corner from her apartment building to buy groceries. She ate dinner in front of the TV, and fell asleep with a book in her hands. Her light brown hair curled under predictably at the ends, and her brown eyes saw the world through a pair of rectangular brown frames. All appearances pointed to Sandra as a plain, yet pleasant, woman. Some might even call her “mousy.”
By Sarah Faeth Sanders5 years ago in Fiction
A Grandfather's Watch
I’ll be the first to admit that I didn’t live the most responsible life – well, for the first thirty years or so of it, anyway. I partied too much in school, had a ton of fun but never really thought about what the repercussions could be as I got older. That was always for an older me to worry about.
By Luke Vandermeer5 years ago in Fiction
The Cave of Revelation
The carpenter hid his tools behind a thorny bush, tied a knot to hold his beard, and entered the cave. A few meters in, sunlight no longer penetrated the darkness, so he was not able to rely on his sense of sight; the only light left was the one inside his own blue-green eyes. He took off his sandals as he had done the very first day he was brought there, and every other day after that, as the Sage had instructed. The jagged stone ground was so cold that it hurt the soles of his feet; caves in the middle of the snowy mountains were nature-made freezers where the locals could usually keep uncooked meat for days. No animal flesh would be found in this particular place though. This was his Teacher’s abode, a holy shrine, a sanctum for the illumination of the soul and the evolution of humanity; only life was allowed inside.
By Sebastian Chalela5 years ago in Fiction
BEATS
His life or mine? The light flashes green, one beat per second, measuring my heart rate at rest. Of course it speeds up if I exert myself, I know this but test it anyway. Stand, walk, walk faster, jog. Always watching the subcutaneous flash of green on my wrist.
By CJ Flannery5 years ago in Fiction
