Fantasy
Salvations' End. Top Story - July 2021.
The smell of the salty air, the sounds of waves crashing, and the warmth of the sun; that is where Pietro’s mind drifted. . His little girl Evangeline and his darling wife Sarah running back and forth in tandem with the waves. Memories of watching the sunset disappear and watching the night sky rise before returning home. A vision of a time that seemed to have occurred a lifetime ago. Looking around now all he saw was the dark clouds that never gave way to that beautiful radiant light. He shifted in his position and grimaced at the pain from his wound. He hated that incessant howling that, at first, had curdled his blood, however now just annoyed him. He glanced around in the distance and saw them moving back and forth ever so quickly and cautiously. There was no need for them to be worried as he hurled his gun into the pile of other useless wooden pieces, but they didn’t know that. He questioned all the choices he had made that had led him to this moment. To die in this dingy old barn. He sighed deeply, watching the chill materialize his breath, and began to let his mind fade.
By Luis Omar Padilla5 years ago in Fiction
Faerie Night
He attempted to peer through the thick fog. No moon tonight and no proper rain, just the bone chilling mist. He gripped his wife’s cold fingers more tightly and together they stumbled through the dark woods, silent but for their passing. They needed shelter, a safe place to rest. “Please…” He prayed silently. “Not so much for meself, but for her and the babe within.”
By Haddessah Anne Brice5 years ago in Fiction
Dusty Sunlight
I’ve lived alone in the barn for as long as I can remember. I always had it all to myself; the wide, cobwebby loft, the sunlit threshing floor, and the musty stall where the old tractor had been gathering dust for years. I could hunt for fat mice in the hay or listen to the singing of the swallows without being bothered.
By Mistcatcher5 years ago in Fiction
The Protector
Miko awoke and tried to open his eyes, but he had none to open. Great, he thought, another heartless lifetime. This would only be Miko’s fourth heartless life, but the first three had been blessedly short. Nothing topped the brevity of being brought to life by the careful hands of a master potter, only to have that life cut short by a careless kiln worker. With any luck, this form would prove similarly fragile.
By Spencer Van Leeuwen5 years ago in Fiction
Shimeru and the Queen of the Night
Flora still needed adjusting. That was what her father said at least once a day, and her mother would just nod in agreement, like she did to everything. Flora wondered just what kind of adjusting she needed. She didn’t feel like being adjusted, she just wanted to go back to the city. The farm was strange. You could hear the crickets at night, and some other awful noises that her dad said were frogs but there were too many to be frogs. She had seen frogs in the daytime, in groups of two or three at most, but at night it sounded like an army of frogs. It made her afraid to step in the grass at night, she might step on one, and it would squish between her toes and make a sound to call the others for revenge. For this reason, she had avoided going out past dark for the first two weeks in her new home.
By Charlie Jolliffe5 years ago in Fiction
The Barn Door
The Barn Door I wasn’t ready to cross over yet, but these things don’t always go the way you plan. When the Committee told me it was time, I tried to back out. But that, of course, was unthinkable. That would jeopardize the whole mission. I didn’t want to be the one to undo all the good we had done so far.
By Chel Svendsgaard5 years ago in Fiction
Horseshoe Road
When I was ten years old my family moved to a farming community so my dad could find work. I wasn't happy about any part of it. I remember fighting a lot with my mom during the day while my dad was working. That first summer I would leave everyday and wouldn't come home till I thought my parents were worried sick. There were few kids around, and the ones I saw looked miserable. All of them except Johnny. Johnny was like me. After the first round of staring at each other without saying a word like kids do, it was almost like we were brothers. We played all day and all night. I had no reason to go home until after dark. Let the parents worry. Might not make sense to kids that are happy where they're living, with mommy and daddy giving you everything you want, but when you hear all the problems your parents are having because the house you live in is smaller than a shoe box it's nice to stay away. Trust me.
By Scott Sinderson5 years ago in Fiction
