Sci Fi
Of Traps and Lace, Chapter Two
The restaurant’s back-exit let onto an alley with two mouths. While most of the Mini-Flashes went out front to scare Petunia and Dacks in that direction, the remainder waited in their parked cars and covered both escape-routes. At one end of the alleyway brooded Mini-Flash Meteor, and at the other sat Mini-Flash Bobbypins with 4-H-N. Bobbypins had in an understated way been quite insistent about this arrangement, and it wasn’t long at all before she revealed why.
By Doc Sherwood5 years ago in Fiction
Of Traps and Lace, Chapter Three
Beneath the conurbation ran a sombre pillared labyrinth where the oldest buildings’ foundations were found. Into its echoes and half-light Plunder Dacks and Petunia had fled, fearing to stay on the street. Eerie noises making their way to them through the cavernous subterrania reminded both that even down here they might not be alone for long.
By Doc Sherwood5 years ago in Fiction
Of Traps and Lace, Chapter Four
Since going undercover among the Mini-Flashes 4-H-N had kept up the illusion by conscientiously attending class, so knew right away which standard Flash Club search-pattern the gang would be using. She also knew Petunia was no trained field-operative. Bobbypins and the others would drive her upward, as was proper practice for targets unable to fly, and given the direction she took off in and how much time had elapsed it was easy enough for 4-H-N to home in on where her peachy quarry was most likely to put in a reappearance. Sure enough, before long she spied the familiar flippy head. Jumping with both hands outstretched 4-H-N clutched Petunia by the sweater and span her round, so that she stumbled to a stop and they were staring at each other.
By Doc Sherwood5 years ago in Fiction
Of Traps and Lace, Chapter One
Petunia moved through the pretty evening glow, companionably hand-in-hand with a boy wearing nothing but inch-thick rubber pants. Male Mini-Flashes suddenly mindful of the underwear beneath their own tunics stopped to watch as she and her escort’s considerably more industrial ones sailed by the lit-up shops. Those observers already teetering over taking a trip to Nottingham might have been tempted out of their last-minute doubts by the bobbing of Petunia’s silky violet flip-up tips or the flouncy bounce of her hemline, not to mention such motion as belonged to the tight snowy sweater between. Others however argued an oath to The Flash Club meant more than six saccharine songs, and would have appreciated it if certain girls put their petticoats to their proper use and weren’t quite so public about allegiances. It seemed no matter which side Mini-Flashes stood on interpretations of The Four Heroes’ cause, there was something about Petunia that had all the boys bumbling to politics.
By Doc Sherwood5 years ago in Fiction
The Folly. Runner-Up in Return of the Night Owl Challenge.
In the morning, he calls a cab for Ivy. It’s a day of low, racing clouds that run dark shadows across the fields. The two of them watch the car as it turns into the drive and scrapes against the hedgerows. The cab driver curses behind the windscreen, then lowers the window, scowling.
By Owen Schaefer5 years ago in Fiction
The Cycle of Life
Wyatt reached over and squeezed Mia’s hand then wiped the tears from her cheeks before tentatively caressing the tiny perfect face in her arms. Tears fell from his red eyes as he felt the cold on his sweet son’s skin and noticed his pink hue was disappearing. Mia grabbed his hand again and held it tight as Wyatt cried out, “He is really gone isn’t he.”
By Viltinga Rasytoja5 years ago in Fiction
Detox LLC.
Devil's On The Details. On March 11 of 2020, the world has declared an emergency state due to an asteroid that was bound to clash with earth. After several meetings and negotiations, between the leaders of each country, they determined the best bet for the human race was to launch a rocket which through magnetism is able to change the course of the asteroid by keeping a trajectory within its range. They made this choice since they assumed that destroying it could just put some countries in jeopardy due to its size. We were advised to not go out during that week. Since this plan wasn't a sure shot, they wanted everyone to spend this days with their loved ones, because "you never know".
By Saymon Rodriguez Montero5 years ago in Fiction
Night Reign
Everyone thinks that being special is awesome. We all grow up with stories about superheros who have amazing abilities which they use to fight the bad guys and save the day. We all are bound to fantasize about what it would be like to be a superhero, to have powers and to save the day. For real life superheroes with amazing abilities, who actually save the world, their reality is divergent. For those who have walked a similar path to my own, the cold hard truth is that being special is not awesome at all, it is lonely. Others will often find that which makes you different, even if they do not know exactly how you are different from them, to be off putting and recoil from you. And often those you help the most will be the first to turn on you.
By Christina Cox5 years ago in Fiction
The Gluu
The Gluu In an unknown place outside of this universe or any other known universe exists a tower. This tower extends up and down as far as the eye can see, the vision of it perplexes the mind. The ethereal stone of the tower is made up of colors that ripple and pulse through it. In addition to this, the tower looks to have sections and each section has a dominant color.
By Xephon Teg5 years ago in Fiction
The Old Man's Barn
Summer has just begun and it is a beautiful, sunny day. I’m a bit of a loner and I like to take long walks in the countryside to pass the time. Today I’m headin’ over to check out the back forty of old Famer Williams field. I’ve never been that far from home but I’m feelin’ adventurous today. Farmer Williams is a kind old man who retired about fifteen years ago. He’s never mentioned any kids of his own, or even a wife, but he does wear a ring on his left hand so I’m pretty sure he was married once. Either way, Mr. Williams is always smilin’, although there is a lonely sadness behind his small, wrinkled eyes. He likes to give me and my friends trinkets when we manage to make it as far as his front gate. So far, he’s given me an old pocket watch and a knife he claims is from the Civil War. We enjoy listening to his stories of being a soldier in times all but forgotten, although some of his tales are pretty strange. We’re not sure if his yarns are real or if he’s just gettin’ a little senile, but it’s a fun way to pass the hot summer days so we all just go along with it.
By Sylvie Smith5 years ago in Fiction
