Humor
The Eaves, Dropping
Jason had heard it from his father, who probably heard it from his grandfather or someone else in the family that he never met: “One man’s ceiling is another man’s floor.” Maybe he really did not understand the meaning of that completely – is it about levels, achievement, success, he thought? No, he was not sure, but he was entertained by what he was hearing. And it all came to him just above his head.
By Kendall Defoe 2 years ago in Fiction
The Billionaire’s Cats
Jasper's hands got sweaty when he was nervous. Harper used to call him "slippery hands." Not a good nickname, but at least Harper tried. Jasper wiped his palms down his pant legs and inched forward, hugging the wall. He approached the corner of the hallway and wiped his hands again. Harper was supposed to be with him. It was Jasper's first job; he was supposed to have a trainer with him. Instead, he was alone; a nervous trainee with a gun expected to kill a rancid-smelling billionaire. Jasper pulled the collar of his jacket over his mouth and did his best to not breathe through his nose. How could one person smell this bad? Good grief. Finally reaching the corner, he slowly pushed his head into the hallway. The first thing he saw was the rotting corpse of a tabby cat. Ah, the cat was rancid not the billionaire. How long had that thing been lying there? Didn't this guy have maids or something? The hallway was empty, so Jasper made the dash to the large gilded door on the opposite wall. This part was all about speed, not stealth. So he tore the gun from his pocket and kicked the door open. He was standing gun up legs set wide and slightly bent when he was faced with what was in the bedroom: another dead cat. Other than the second carcass, the room was empty. Was he too late? Was the billionaire already long gone? Nope, Jasper rushed the rest of the way to the cat, crouched, and waited for the footsteps in the hall to stop. Crap, he may have to kill someone after all. As the noise got closer, he got more tense. Then suddenly whoever was walking down the hall reached the door frame. It was the billionaire, and he spotted Jasper immediately. Jasper threw up his gun. Could he really shoot him?
By Natalie Scivally3 years ago in Fiction
Dainty Dairy Narratives
Precious memories, stored in the form of small stories, continue to exist as we share those memories. That is what I believe. I store such stories in my diaries, and now I will share those stories with you. Welcome to Dainty Dairy Narratives.
By Arjun Sahasya3 years ago in Fiction
Origin
Before time, before music, before magic and mystery, before myths and legends and cults of personality, in the absence of light and sound and humanity, there existed a little known Void. Well guarded, even reserved, Void housed a universe of great unknowns, which had survived throughout eternity in absolute darkness, shrouded in rumors.
By Christy Munson3 years ago in Fiction
