Short Story
Steak and Robotic Eggs. Content Warning.
Down at the Grant and Franklin they got all manner of gizmo. Picked me up a Self-Buryin' Shovel, which I haven't seen since the day I got it. "Oh you'll find it when the batteries run out" says the feller behind the counter. But I also put in some of them Never Die D cells, which the ads say are worth every single penny. Remember pennies? I don't.
By Jason Edwards2 years ago in Fiction
Fact Of Artificial Sweeteners
Evaluating the Impact of Food Additives: The first method refers to the use of artificial sweeteners, which entails introducing a chemically modified version of a certain substance into the body in an attempt to perform the same function as the original substance but in a safer manner.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing2 years ago in Fiction
Thank You Minerva
Harry and Ron are sitting in the front row of transfiguration waiting for class to end as Professor McGonagall makes her closing statements. “Ladies and gentlemen make sure you are all well-prepared for your OWLs next week” McGonagall began. “They carry a bit more significance than Professor Snape would care to divulge as much as I, so keep your wands at the ready, class dismissed.”
By Joe Patterson2 years ago in Fiction
Echoes of Emptiness
Kate led what appeared to be an ordinary life, but beneath her calm exterior lay a profound unhappiness. Seen as unremarkable, her quiet demeanor and introspective nature set her apart. Despite the beauty surrounding her, she felt an unshakeable loneliness, wandering through life without purpose.
By Mystery Writers2 years ago in Fiction
Creature
When it came to talking about it, everything about that night had been molten gold in a way Henry forever struggled to explain. Proud man of science—a medical student—any description of what felt at the time akin to nothing so much as magic evaded the firm grasp of his analytical mind. The light glazing Vivienne’s hair, and the honeyed gleam of her eyes. The malt of beer in the air, and on Vivienne’s breath when she laughed. Arthur, with his golden skin and golden spirit. Even the dull roar of life pouring from the other students cramming the pub, as if Henry could see the spark of primordial fire at the core of each one of them.
By Lauren Everdell2 years ago in Fiction
It Was To Be Expected
The shock of the fall was still on Mother‘s face when I found her at the bottom of the stairs. If only she had been plucked discretely by the Reaper, with no knowledge of the end—not that losing her would have been any easier; just that, perhaps, my skin would have crawled a little bit less. She lied limp on the expensive Italian marble floor. Her eyes—blue like the lagoons on our last trip to Tahiti—were open, looking up as if searching for a way out. I pulled down the hem of her night robe to preserve her dignity. This one was her favorite, white with dark blue lilies—her family’s beloved fleur de lys.
By Lily Séjor2 years ago in Fiction
