Short Story
Arrows Of Gold. Content Warning.
Standing here, at the shooting range, my bow at the ready, I focus on the target in the distance. Today is my sixteenth birthday, yet no one cares. I've been preparing for this day for six years now, practicing my archery and biding my time, bitterly and exquisitely. I breathe in and out, barely holding my excitement, smirking to myself.
By YonathanJ - Writer2 years ago in Fiction
Lions Head In The Well . Top Story - December 2024.
The forest of voices Pinny folded her skirt and climbed over the toppled tree. The green lichen dusted her hand, she brought her palms together and brushed them off. Along the ground of the lost forest, next to her feet and to the side, was a line of winterstone flies carrying dried leaves above their little bodies. Not wanting to step on them under the weight of her feet, she kept in the middle and walked ahead.
By Caitlin Charlton2 years ago in Fiction
The Fox And The Frost Tree
Introduction This is my fifteenth piece inspired by Angie Linvingstone's amazing artwork. You can find her on Facebook and Etsy on the links below, and her comments on my work are very positive. At first. I thought that this was going to be a poem, but I have decided on a seasonal fable.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 2 years ago in Fiction
Rekindling
Inspiration: a fallen gods finds his mortal lover again. Ruins. Fallen gods. Bloodshed. Heavens have been unholy stained with thirsty red; the ground littered with shining eyes and glowing wings. Whispers of stories, as ancient as the trees hugging the bodies; of tapestries waiting for years to finally shine, all dim and withering away with the deities that failed their mortals. These gods promised the earth of their protection, control and order, carried out facades of goodwill and bestowed bewitching double-edged blessings. All for what, exactly? No one knows.
By Sapphire D.B Boa2 years ago in Fiction
The Unlikely Rise of Chijioke
Chijioke Nwachukwu wasn’t that Chijioke Nwachukwu. This Chijioke was a 34-year-old man-child who still lived with his parents in their cramped suburban home in Lagos, working part-time at a tech store in the "What’s New in Tech" section. He was, in fact, the least likely candidate to become a tech guru. But he had one thing going for him: an unbelievable belief in his own potential.
By Winner Precious2 years ago in Fiction
Getting the bird
Oh Jeff ... I love you too ... but ... The birds have got to go. I mean, seriously? The partridge in the pear tree, that was sweet. You remembered how I talked about Christmas when I was a kid, and that song, and all those memories. And really, I’ve no idea how you even managed to find a live partridge – you don’t get them in pet shops, right? – and persuaded it to stay perched in a rinky-dink little pear tree while you brought it round.
By Andy Potts2 years ago in Fiction
Love, Lithographs, and Lichtenstein
"Oh, Jeff... I love you too... but..." Jeff read in an undertone the message from his beloved Freya, feeling the eyes of his team fixed on him. The story still felt too melodramatic, even for him. For a long time he had pondered what her last words in her beautiful corporeal form had meant. All efforts to contact Lichtenstein before his death had been in vain.
By Paul Stewart2 years ago in Fiction
Imagining World War Three
Kyle Emery was a typical fourteen year old boy except for the fact that he had an over-active imagination. He lived in an older Victorian style home in the middle of Nebraska. The home came with a fallout shelter buried in the back yard. A remnant of the 1960’s cold war era.
By Scott A. Gese2 years ago in Fiction
Unraveled
It was a beautiful day. The thin cirrus clouds were draped across the deep blue sky like lazy feathers, and a warm breeze tickled the leaves on the old tree outside her window. Patricia was in the laundry room folding her clothes when the old dog sounded the alarm that there was an intruder. She went out to the living room and saw the familiar blue of the Amazon van with the smile through the window. The driver had already left the package on her doorstep so she went out and brought it in, wondering what she’d ordered this time. The box was light and when she ripped it open, there was the prettiest blue yarn and the shiny new knitting needles she’d ordered on a whim. As if she didn’t have enough stuff going on with work and school, and taking care of her property, she had decided to learn to knit and make her friend Samuel a sweater. Gifts were always a hard thing with him, and she figured a hand knit sweater would be fun to make as a bonus, because it would be practical. Samuel is a practical kind of guy, which is totally relatable for Patricia, because she silently sighs every time someone gives her a knickknack, a.k.a. “dust collector“.
By Colleen Walters2 years ago in Fiction
SANTA CLAUS : The Christmas's Magic
Santa: The Christmas Magic With the December wind and chilled season comes the bright lighting on houses and streets, with one known figure in full light. It is Santa Claus, donning his famous red suit, laughing heartily, and carrying a bag full of gifts. Not only a character in stories but more so a reflection of hope, generosity, and that very magic that would make Christmas so special and worth having.
By Aman Yadav2 years ago in Fiction
