Short Story
Between the Cushions
Despite the funky smell and the scratchy crumbs that slide into all my cracks, I actually prefer it here. When I’m here, no one wipes their buttery or cheesy fingers on me. My face is safe from being sat upon, or worse, farted upon. I’m not slammed around in annoyance when the Dolphins miss the final touchdown or the smaller ones are told to go do chores. No one rips off my backside and pries out my innards to be used for a game. Here I am safe from being kicked around, chewed on, stepped on, smacked about, or fought over. Truth be told, most of the time it isn’t an accident that I end up here. Sometimes, when they leave me too close to the edge, I purposely slide off and plummet into this dark, safe crevice. Once out of sight, I wiggle down as deep as I can get. Then, I patiently wait for all the fun to begin and I usually don't have to wait long. Though their voices are muffled in here, I can still hear them clear enough to really enjoy the impending pandemonium.
By A. J. Schoenfeld3 years ago in Fiction
The White Death
The sky is dark grey, with the white snow raining down. It lands on the ground, and rises up. High to the knee, which is difficult to walk on foot. The wind blows, harden soft skin beneath thick layers of clothes. The fog clouds the surrounding, only seeing the blankness and emptiness of the element. Some are foolish to challenge what’s known as the White Death.
By Bass Man Eddie3 years ago in Fiction
Battling Guilt Part 7: More of Petra &Ivan's Origin Romance
Petra wasn't completely unappealing herself, although her own looks weren't a particular concern of hers. Still, looking at her wasn't a pain at all. She was 5'1 with a thick and muscular yet petite frame, her eyes a deep brown and dark brown hair that flowed right below her shoulders, highlighting her olive tone skin that nearly boasted of no blemishes, except for an occasional zit at her jaw line or forehead temples. And her cute little heart shaped face made it hard to take her serious when she was upset. So it was no wonder that Ivan seemed to be enraptured by her beauty.
By dre.amerwithapen3 years ago in Fiction
Herald of Winter's Chill
Eira Astair, a bard by trade, stood outside the Alabaster Arrow, pouting. Her performance had not gone as planned, but it was far from the worst she had ever given. She took solace in that, breathing deep the chill night air. Drifts of fresh-fallen snow blew gently in the light wind. Eira was at home in the icy chill of newly fallen snow. A winter spirit, the cold did not bother her like other mortals. Holding her hand to catch a few flakes, they didn’t melt. The cold was why she ventured to Illux City in the first place. It was mesmerizing this time of year, with its towers covered in glittering frost and ice. Walking with her lute in hand, she begins plucking a few strings.
By S.N. Evans3 years ago in Fiction
Three Fins | Pt. 3
Chief Riley was imprisoned inside of the Oak Bluffs Police Department, juggling relentless phone calls from frantic vacationers, as well as a long line of pissed off locals who crammed their sweaty bodies into the small station. Her sergeant was on crowd control, while her deputy, and clerk, handled the other two phones. Her husband Hayden, the general manager of Nancy's Restaurant, left work early to help his wife regain control of the island. Being the great husband that he was, he stopped at Back Door donuts before going to the station for coffee and his wife’s all-time favorite treats. Cinnamon rolls and apple fritters.
By Kale Sinclair3 years ago in Fiction
Surrender the Witches
Being out in the garden always carried a bit of magic with it. Brushing back the rosemary for the sweet smell of it. The calming aroma of lavender and anise made the world take on soft purple hues that swirled into each other like a twilight sunset. Walking through the garden was stepping into an Autumn corn maze, head high and miles deep. But it wasn’t miles. It was footsteps. The same footsteps Mom used to take to pluck her posies and parsnips.
By C.C. Moyer-Gardner3 years ago in Fiction
Cinnamon Rolls
Leah was going into diabetic shock in the middle of her neighborhood park. It was five past nine in the morning, and she was out enjoying her well deserved snow day. The snowball fight she was having with her dog, Ellie, turned for the worst when Leah suddenly collapsed into the snow.
By Kale Sinclair3 years ago in Fiction
