Love
The Walk
Major woke that morning as he had every morning, to the screams of the sick, dying and the injured. The sky above him scorched red, a reflection of the burning seas below them. This was the thirteenth camp he'd slept in since the day it rained fire. No one saw it coming, even with all the advances in technology, scientists watching the skies. The asteroid broke up once it hit Earth's atmosphere and scattered to every continent and hit the Pacific, Atlantic and Indian oceans, setting everything a blaze that the impact didn't kill. The last six months had been just as hard as the first six days after it happened. Everyone was cut off from each other, left to their own devices to survive. Countries around the world could barely support their own citizens let alone help anyone anywhere else. As time went on it became more than apparent that help would be little to none until it was just none and they all were on their own. One did whatever was necessary in order to live to see another day.
By Gail Alston3 years ago in Fiction
No Matter What
Grungy is the word that comes to mind to describe so many things in my life right now. Since 2016, life in North America, as we know it, has taken a turn for the worse. Here we are, only twenty years later, and the entire planet is being wrought with despair because of the ineptness during that regime. Although nothing seems to matter anymore, it seems there’s this hologramistic hope deep in my heart that tells me she is still alive…somewhere.
By RON ANDERSON3 years ago in Fiction
Him
I woke up again today. I find myself counting down the days until I don’t. Well, that's not accurate, I’m really just counting up to it, I guess. Unlike the cans of soup and old milk cartons I find throughout the storage rooms that have long been forgotten, I don’t have an expiration date. No ‘Best By’ mark, no stamp displaying the day I’ll belong in the bin. I roll over onto my side, the soft blankets moving with my body, cocooning me in cool, white cotton. My nose brushes against the nose of my bedfellow, our eyelines meeting. His eyes cast a dull glow, and he doesn’t respond to my movements. I wonder if he has one. An expiration date.
By Storm S. Cone3 years ago in Fiction
Mountain and Sea
Where there is land and sea, there is life. Where there is life there are obstacles. Where there are humans, there are problems. History has a funny way of repeating itself. War over power and love is all that’s left to silence the urge to live. Stories of ancestors that used to hike and govern all Terra was all that was taught once, dreams for kids to run off and explore the horizons of their island, this was the only way to live to the fullest while longing to be old enough to travel the long sea for possibilities of newer faces. However, there were borders prohibited to enter and explore, clans where created for a reason. “If we all would get along, there would be more fights, staring the new era of another apocalypses” explained the elders. It was known in the villages that in the past, nuclear bombs were launched in order to start over, all due to the fact that powerful people had rivals and out of control democracy. It was taught that the few that were left on the habited island, were doing the right thing. Either have your clan to protect and feed, or hand it over to a better warrior, or for the relatedness of the story, hand it over for wrongdoings that make you underserving of a community.
By Monica Ramirez3 years ago in Fiction
I'm Here
It's been so long since I've seen colors; the blue sky, birds, trees, smelled a flower or felt human touch, but I remember you as though it was yesterday. Your smile and the way your eyes crinkled, your one dimple that would appear as your eyes all but closed when you'd walk toward me grinning from ear to ear. Your beautiful brown skin, so soft it felt like heaven, so warm, so smooth, tattoos adorning both your arms, never quite completed, but still a part of you. Your voice, nurturing, low and soft always comforted me.
By Celeste Barbier3 years ago in Fiction
The Last Pilgrimage
The small notebook seemed to weigh heavier on him every day. Maybe it was the weight of the tale scrawled on its pages. Maybe it was the weight of the new bookmark and what it meant. Maybe every insignificant weight felt an immovable burden to him now. It didn’t matter much; it’d be the last night he wrote in it anyways.
By Alex Widovic3 years ago in Fiction
My Sisters Protection
“Where are all the children?” The entire world wanted to know. All I can remember is waking up in a room with bright lights on the ceiling, and digital file folders on the walls. I had never seen anything like it. I could not remember my name, but somehow, I knew I had one. Subject 710, is what they called me. I was strapped to a bed. All kinds of test and experiments were done on me. I could tell by the precise incisions all over my body. We slept in rooms with about 20 people and 20 beds separated by glass. There was a girl about my age, and we would communicate with our eyes. We all had this ability. She told me she was lost, and so was I. Our memories haunted us with sadness.
By Brittany Fuller3 years ago in Fiction
Doomsday
Savannah had been watching one of The Real Housewives shows when the television automatically switched to the breaking news broadcast. She dropped her mug which was filled with black coffee. She hadn’t even heard the glass break, only the ringing in her ears. The announcement was simply that it was the end of the world.
By Mackenzie Waldron3 years ago in Fiction