Series
The Lull of a Windless Day
The sun climbed high into the sky, filling the air with light and heat. In the fields, boys wiped sweat from their brows and glared angrily at the sun. Women hid on their porches with their crying babes, trying to find a little relief in the sparse shade. Plants withered in the blazing heat as mud dried into cracking cakes of dirt. Without the cooling rush of wind, nothing seemed to enjoy the heat of the sun.
By A. J. Schoenfeld2 years ago in Fiction
The Waltz of a Windy Night
Wind perched sullenly at the top of the cliff, anxiously looking for the next great adventure. Darkness began falling across the land. Deep in the heart of the forest, a light began flickering cheerful orange and bright yellow. Both curious and hopeful, Wind swooped down for a closer look.
By A. J. Schoenfeld2 years ago in Fiction
A Tense Rescue
The rescue boat officer pulled the boat as close to the house front door as he could get it safely. He secured it by tying a rope around a tree. Then he trudged through the water to the front door that was slightly opened. He opened the door wider and called for the children.
By Shanon Angermeyer Norman2 years ago in Fiction
Mario and Anya, two smart kids
The officer instructed Fig to stay put with the other people on dry land while they took the rescue boat back into the flooded street to pick up Fig's kids and any others they could see. Fig was worried that her kids would not respond to the help since she had told them not to open the door.
By Shanon Angermeyer Norman2 years ago in Fiction
Destruction of a Windy Day. Top Story - October 2024.
Far off in the distance, behind the cliff where wind perched, the mountains settled into rolling plains. Across the horizon, a wall began forming, dark and ominous. Made of an entirely different type of cloud then those that rain played in above the ocean or the fluffy ones in whose folds the sun snoozed. Wind knew that hail hid in the dark folds of these vapors and electricity sizzled, waiting to be set free. Storm had come out to play and wind eagerly raced from the cliffside to join in.
By A. J. Schoenfeld2 years ago in Fiction
The Lost City of Lumora
The Mysterious Map It was an ordinary afternoon in the small town of Eldridge when 14-year-old Max stumbled upon a dusty old map in his attic. The map, rolled up and hidden behind some old boxes, looked ancient. Its edges were torn, and strange symbols were scribbled all over it. At the bottom, in bold, faded letters, it read: “The Lost City of Lumora.”
By Ƒนʀƙเ ฬʀเτєร2 years ago in Fiction
The Queen Pelalandorus Incident
The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished. Perhaps it was the wind. Others say it was because we were famished. A curse? For having killed her kin. Divine retribution for those we banished. A plague sent by the Vaquarin? For a war that was unfinished.
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Fiction
The Winter Night and the Sad Girl
On a bitterly cold winter night, snow blanketed the quiet streets, muffling every sound. The world seemed asleep under a layer of frost, and the moon's dim glow reflected off the icy ground. In the corner of a small attic room, a girl named Lina sat by the fogged-up window, watching the snowflakes swirl in the wind.
By Muhammad Waheed Asghar2 years ago in Fiction
Blood Diamonds
The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished. Well, that's what the historians said. Historians, the same people who are in the pay of whatever whim of the current royalty. Their words are always flattering, their opinions sway in the high head wind of the current crowned head (cough, cough), and the annals of history take on a certain overblown view of things.
By Meredith Harmon2 years ago in Fiction
