Fantasy
Marla Medizza and the Miopsa mirror. Chapters twenty-six and twenty-seven.
Chapter Twenty-six A time to reflect. ‘Of course, it will work, Marla. Your grandad took good care of that car.’ Marla’s heart skips a beat. She turns around to see mum and Bella standing on the pathway outside her home. She twists forward, the Rolls-Royce is parked on the roadside waiting for her to begin her Deja vu trek. Marla runs to her Mum and sister, embracing them both.
By Peter Culbert5 years ago in Fiction
Marla Medizza and the Miopsa mirror. Chapters twenty, twenty-one, and twenty-two.
Chapter twenty A time to be Lucky. They sail the sable sky. Night welcomes dawn. Dawn opens the door to the warm afternoon air. The heat of sunlight radiating against Marla’s skin. Babulous holds on tight, snuggling his furry head into her shoulder. His whiskers brush against her cheek, the touch comforting. She reaches around, placing her palm on his cheek, caressing him. Whatever Fuckus mountain has in store, she feels secure with Babulous by her side. To her, he is a protector, like her parents.
By Peter Culbert5 years ago in Fiction
Marla Medizza and the Miopsa mirror. The final chapter.
The final chapter Cornelius Darkus. An intense blaze of sunlight fills the bedroom as Marla wakes. Her thoughts draped in darkness, her fear paramount. She pushes her mule onto her foot and paces downstairs toward the kitchen.
By Peter Culbert5 years ago in Fiction
Marla Medizza and the Miopsa mirror. Chapters fourteen and fifteen.
Chapter fourteen. Motorcycles and madness. A distinct aroma of sizzling pork propels Marla from a heavy slumber. Sitting upright and wiping her eyes as the dawn chorus of birdsong awakens her senses. She beams at the mound opposite her. It farts. This time she does not sneer. The sound and stench of his bodily functions assure her he is alive. She stretches and twists as her leg flops over the edge of the bed. Reaching into her suitcase, she plucks out clean pants and a t-shirt.
By Peter Culbert5 years ago in Fiction
Forged in fire
The potent odor of garbage and sweat practically smacked Blithe in the face as she and her mother, Shena, walked the city street of Yusra on their way to a local spice shop. Blithe tightened her pink embroidered scarf around her nose and moved closer to her mother. The two traveled with their personal body guard Dante who lingered closely behind them. While Blithe kept her gaze mostly focused on the trash littered street below her feet her mother kept her head held high and walked with great haste.
By Ali Shafer 5 years ago in Fiction
Girl with the Golden Glow
The railcar stripped of internal luxuries floated above polished ground. The occupants clung to a bubble of color produced by glow receivers. Without glow, I looked toward the forest which ruptured the monotony of uniformed metallic architecture within the city. My internal monologue scripted a tale of colors blooming naturally. When I returned home, I lingered over blank paper thirsty for the flowing ink of my story. Instead, I abated into replicated steps to a plate of monochrome sustenance. A wide expanse of glow swallowed my motionless grandfather along with various copies of original glow items from the Goldens.
By Miranda Gusmano5 years ago in Fiction
Deep South, Keep Running
Waking from my nightmare, just to fall back into the same one when I was a child, was horrifying enough. Living every day through one, just to wake into the same one the next morning, with no hope for change, is far more unbearable. I find myself longing for the night terrors of my childhood to replace what atrocities the world today offers each morning. At least, then, I could eventually sleep. I remember very clearly the day that it all began.
By Star Besio-Sharp5 years ago in Fiction
