Short Story
A Question Of The Equestrian Plait
I'm a country girl at heart, even though big cities always try to suck me into them. Cities are like sponges. Once you are inside them they don't make it easy to escape. They seem to overload you with dull matters of life, like bills. There are always many more of those in cities. They are expensive places. Good to hide inside away from the crowd. Yet the crowds are vast. Ironic really when one thinks. Vast overcrowded places where no one speaks to anyone unless one has to. Good for tying up one's shoelaces of life I guess. One always seem to be at a starting point in a city or at end game. I always dived in and out as fast I could longing to be in the countryside again.
By Black Dog Productions3 years ago in Fiction
The beginning and the end
They never found it. They looked, but they never found it. But they knew about it. The newspapers reported it. That’s why they looked for it. “Aircraft Pay Nightly Call,” said the Montana Record-Herald (September 10, 1917) about flights over Helena. The Western News in Hamilton (September 13, 1917) reported, “Helena Excited about Airplanes: All Kinds of Reputable Citizens Confirm Reports of Night Prowlers.”
By Anne Millbrooke3 years ago in Fiction
Freeing Azria
7 years ago the world broke out into the biggest, most violent, war the world had ever known. Several nuclear weapons were launched and weaponized contagions were released. Pockets of survivors scattered the land but most of the population was dead or dying. Those left alive had to raid and pillage. Grocery stores and gas stations and restaurants were favorite targets. Some survivors resorted to raiding other groups.
By Billy Rose3 years ago in Fiction
It’s Members Only
They religiously practiced every day at the palace. The tall white walls of the studio climbed up as if they were to reach the sky. Really, the palace itself existed already, and love filled the room as the pointed toed ballerinas practiced the rituals, reaching beyond their limits with the world as their stage. From afar, they were recognized by some highlighted traits. Innately born with all the intrinsic features, they had the abilities to do magnificent things. They hone in their craft. And every night they dreamed about it, and every day, crystal clear, they tapped into the pursuit of their success.
By Alice K.S.3 years ago in Fiction
Going Home
Going Home D. A. Ratliff I hadn’t planned on going there. Fate brought me to speak at a seminar in my home state, and the fact that I was only an hour’s drive from my old homestead gnawed at me. I tried to push it away, but the itch was there and needed attention.
By D. A. Ratliff3 years ago in Fiction
The Warning
Chimes tinkled gently in the breeze, and if you closed your eyes and listened, it might almost seem soothing, filling you with a longing for days long gone by. You might even remember idle summer days, playing outside in the fresh-scented grass or napping on the front porch with a cool glass of lemonade beside you, within easy reach.
By KL Marchowski3 years ago in Fiction