Short Story
Boop. Content Warning.
Part I The knock at the door wasn't unusual - just four knocks - knock-knock-knock-knock. Usual. The thunderous barking of Ryan Seacrest, my Scottish Terrier wasn't unusual. Pound-for-pound, Scottish Terriers have the loudest bark in the canine kingdom.
By John R. Godwin12 months ago in Fiction
Greenhouse. Runner-Up in A Knock at the Door Challenge. Content Warning.
The dusky shadow of the Earth passed over the windows above the heads of the adolescents gathered on the promenade, all of them tilted back to watch. Earth’s curve crested with the glow of the sunrise, a phenomenon they’d all seen before - but for most of the recruits, like Avita, it was the first time they could remember seeing the fireworks that burst in the halo.
By Elizabeth Kaye Daugherty12 months ago in Fiction
The Holy American Empire
The air in Panama City hung heavy with humidity and unease. The skyline glittered just beyond the tinted windows of the presidential palace, but inside, beneath the sterile glow of the conference hall lights, the atmosphere was taut with fear.
By Logan M. Snyder12 months ago in Fiction
Someone Knocking
It all started with a knock on the door. A simple, everyday occurrence... except that it was the middle of the night during a howling gale, and the nearest house or road was over a mile away. (A deliberate choice; some neighbours are better at a distance) There should be no reason for someone to be knocking.
By Natasja Rose12 months ago in Fiction
Remember Your Childhood Bedroom!. Content Warning.
Imagination in childhood is powerful. For a short time, it shapes our lives but how we loose it.. I remember waking up in my bedroom, colours bursting all around me, toys of every shape and size waiting to be played with. Big smiles, bold eyes, and bright creatures greeted me each morning. Back then, even the smallest things seemed huge and magical.
By Cryptic Edwards12 months ago in Fiction
The Buzzer
The apartment where she was starting her life over had one of those outdated intercom systems with a loud, jarring buzzer that always made her heart jump and her skin itch. Her cats hated it too, always scattering when the noise rang through her apartment, sprinting for that dark, enclosed space under her bed that made them both impossible to find. She wondered, as that buzzer echoed through her apartment and her breath caught in her chest and her cats' claws slid over the hardwood floor as they ran for cover, if it would still make her feel that way if she wasn't now built out of anxiety and PTSD. But there was no point in what ifs and maybes in this brave new world.
By Mallory Rose12 months ago in Fiction
