Short Story
1965 Ford Mustang
A gleam arises in the distance to the north-east of my body. The sun slowly creeping its way into the sky showing the trees wiggling in the morning gusts. Though the light illuminates the world and makes it shine, I find that mine has faded. The rust that settled under my paint has left speckles of teal on the forest floor. Some of it has been scattered by the wind and now settles underneath twigs and dead leaves. My lights are foggy, my tires worn, and my innards are torn and leaking fluff. I think one of my handles is loose as well. I have a broken right headlight that has been smashed in by a fallen branch. A dent from the same branch resides concaved above the socket and my mirror that once assisted the people inside me to see, now rests on the forest floor. Though it broke me, it first had been broken.
By Zakariah C. Haggard3 years ago in Fiction
The Diamond
I fear Na’Nikò will not be so lucky as to get out of this situation alive. * * * “This is the room of treasures. You will now be expected to prepare the sacred jewelry for all ceremonies. The gold must be perfectly polished. The gems must be spotless so that light may flow through them. That is extremely important. Do you understand, girl?”
By Lily Séjor3 years ago in Fiction
A Dime for Your Thoughts
He always kept his lucky dime in his right pocket. It had been a dime he had stooped down to retrieve from the sidewalk. That was lucky for him that day because, as he stooped, a large rod had been thrown from the underside of a truck passing by. The rod, as it happened, flew over his ducking head and lodged in the brick wall of the building he was walking past. It sat there in sinusoidal motion, the vibrations of kinetic forces dissipating with a warbling quaver that quickly became inaudble into the higher registers.
By Gerard DiLeo3 years ago in Fiction
Seventh Midnight
Chapter 1: The Mysterious Disappearance The moon hung low in the night sky, casting elongated shadows across the cobblestone streets of Crescent Hollow. Detective Emma Blackwood strode through the eerie silence, her trench coat billowing behind her like a cloak of mystery. Her keen eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for any clue that might unravel the enigma of the Seventh Midnight.
By Zeenat Shoukat3 years ago in Fiction
Whispers of the Lost: A Tale of Time and Destiny
A hidden world, secluded from the hustle and bustle of a sprawling cityscape. The shadows cast by towering buildings reached out like fingers upon the pavement below, yet only those who were lost or forgotten knew where to find it. Here existed an enigmatic community - a secret society that housed misplaced objects; all with their own unique stories to tell. Amongst them resided a pocket watch; once revered by an elusive persona known solely as "The Wanderer" but now diminished in glory through time's inevitable corrosion.
By Stacy Goldheart3 years ago in Fiction
The Cup of the Lamb vs. Sunshine the Breaker
Living things invariably place themselves higher than inert objects in the hierarchy of creation. Though this may seem born of arrogance, it is merely an inevitable result of the finite and narrow perceptions of most conscious beings, and is certainly not limited to humanity. Do trees pity rocks, which in the timeframe of even an ancient oak’s existence, can not grow, but only break down? They do.
By J. Otis Haas3 years ago in Fiction
Misplaced Memories
The anticipation of seeing my grandkids' faces light up with joy as I embarked on my Disney World adventure was enough to keep me smiling through the entire flight. After all, it had been far too long since we last had the chance to spend quality time together. Bella and Nico, my two bundles of energy, had eagerly awaited my arrival, and I couldn't wait to shower them with love and laughter.
By Anthony Chan3 years ago in Fiction
Men Do Cry
In a small town nestled between rolling hills, Benson lived out his days quietly, carrying the weight of the world on his aging shoulders. At seventy-three, he had weathered countless storms, both literal and metaphorical. But through it all, he remained stoic, a pillar of strength for his family.
By Mije Mwanza 3 years ago in Fiction
