Short Story
Giant Mirror
Giant Mirror Elara glowered at her reflection. Crow's feet were carving themselves more profound around her eyes, reflecting the fatigued lines carved on her soul. The world exterior of her window, once dynamic and full of guarantee, presently appeared as blurred and worn as the paint peeling from the window outline.
By Abdul Qayyum2 years ago in Fiction
Daddy's little hobby. Content Warning.
Jack got out of the car and opened the door to the passenger’s seat before offering his arm to help a girl get out. It was a cold autumn evening, the sun had already set and the once colorful leaves that were blown about in a wildfire of oranges and reds changed to a more somber palette, adding volume to the shadows and providing cover for the creatures lurking in the dark. An observant passerby would’ve stated that the couple was warmly dressed: the man wore a long coat, a hat that obscured his face and was carrying a heavy leather briefcase. The woman wore a winter dress and a cozy scarf around her neck; the whole outfit was completed by a dainty little hat with a violet attached to the brim. The man had his arm around the woman’s waist and was swiftly but surely guiding her into the depths of the park where no doubt a passionate evening awaited them. This picture-perfect representation of what a couple hopelessly in love would look like brought appeasement and joy to the park’s late visitors but did not stay in one’s memory for long due to its ordinariness. Using the cover that the darkness had to offer, Jack made no effort to conceal the girl’s troubled breathing, her pale cheeks, glassy, emotionless eyes and general disheveledness of appearance. Although she wanted to call for help or fight her kidnapper, the girl was so heavily sedated that she couldn’t utter a word, let alone move one of her leaden arms. The couple made their way deeper into the park’s wooded area.
By Daria Voynova2 years ago in Fiction
Sleeping in the Rain. Content Warning.
Rain, rain, rain - the rain fell like dull grey, leaden bullets, tearing through layers of the atmosphere before colliding with the pavement and exploding into clouds of stinging, wet shrapnel. Sandy watched the downpour wash away the city life and fake neon colors. She watched people scurrying in the streets like rats fleeing a predator, trying to stay out of the rain that washed their makeup and plastic smiles away, leaving behind only their naked, ugly selves. People hated the rain because it reminded them that not everything in the perfect little world they tried to build was beautiful and spotlessly clean. They hated it because it reminded them that their city rested on the bones of a different city, a different age, one that had been buried and forgotten. They hated it because the old men still remembered the bullets that had rained down on them from above, the gleaming mechanical eagles that had swooped down and preyed on an unwary mother, a weakened elder, a disobedient child, then disappeared again into the stormy gloom. The younger generations did not and would not remember the horrors that their parents and grandparents had gone through, they preferred to build a plastic city on their history, locking it forever under layers of shiny offices and blinding advertisements. The people hated the rain, and Sandy hated them.
By Daria Voynova2 years ago in Fiction
My Soldier. Content Warning.
Rising from the ashes of a long, tedious war, Armalen gasped and sprung into battle, just as he had done several times before. His great, blood soaked sword plundered the lives of those unfortunate enough to step within range of the mighty warrior. He was a brute—an absolute animal on the battlefield; and She knew.
By Starlight Scribbles2 years ago in Fiction
THE INHERITANCE - part eighteen
THE INHERITANCE – part eighteen……… Welcome home ++++++++++ After sharing tea with Mrs. Anderson and Shevy, Kate looked at her watch and said, “Oh, good lord, Mo. It’s after four. We’d better hurry. I’m sure your family will be starving.”
By Margaret Brennan2 years ago in Fiction
Enchanted Melody
Madison recognized the woman on stage that night. She saw the slight shake in her hands gripping the mic, how her eyes closed when hitting the high notes. It brought Madison back to being twelve, finding that strange tape hidden behind her dresser.
By Jeff Hutchings2 years ago in Fiction
