Young Adult
A Moment Ahead. Top Story - August 2021.
If people actually knew Esther Ringell, she would have been the topic of every conversation had when there’s nothing else to talk about. Really, it was quite a talent to be someone so odd as Esther yet still avoid being the focus of others’ tongues. When Esther ever pondered this, she would always conclude that her extravagance was such that it was noticed in the moment but forgotten afterwards – especially once she had returned to the safety of her habitual demeanour that had the basic outward appearance of a blank wall. The excuse she loved most when some noticed this stark difference and asked her about it was that she had reserved so much energy (and face muscles) from appearing like a zombie that she could be ‘wild’ and ‘crazy’ with no effort or second thought.
By Caitlin Swan5 years ago in Fiction
Monday's When the Ghosts Perform
“Don’t forget to turn on the ghost light, Maddie!” The stage manager, Ned, shouted at me from across the theatre. It was well past 10 o’clock on the Sunday before Hell Week. Ned had been working at Pascaly Theatre for two months longer than me, which apparently gave him the authority to boss me around. “Tomorrow’s Monday after all, and you know what Monday means.”
By Emy McGuire5 years ago in Fiction
Permission
Despite my parents being violently taken from me, I have lived a sheltered life. I know that about myself, but still my naivete leads me to trust people I shouldn’t. All Adam had to do was look at me, smile and treat me with the compassion I had been craving for so long. And so I told him everything.
By Brooke Craig5 years ago in Fiction
Counting Colors
Red. Yellow. Green. Red. Yellow. Green. That makes it just over 100 times that the light has changed since I’ve opened my eyes. I can see the faint reflection in a puddle just a few feet beneath me. Water from a broken pipe drips into the murky puddle. Every five seconds to be exact- momentarily distorting the reflection of the traffic light beyond the rubble. The light seems to pour in from a tiny gap in debris behind me.
By Tanya Xavier5 years ago in Fiction
Johnny's Mouth
Sometimes my days are sunny and sometimes they are grey. That’s okay. Some of my days sound like rock songs. I used to make out with this guy, Johnny. We’d share spit in the front seat of his car. His spit always tasted kinda weird, like cola and cigarettes. Johnny thought he was a rockstar. Pfft. He wrote me a song once. It was called ‘Lilac Lola’. He thought lilac meant lovely. It seemed rude to break it to him that he was describing me as a light purple.
By Isabel Dilena5 years ago in Fiction
The Only Way Forward
The lady was at it again. Her petite, hunched over figure was unmistakable. She was engaged in a deep conversation as always, however, her partner was nowhere to be seen. She had been doing this ever since Marina moved into the building. It did not matter how cold or warm it was outside, the lady was always there talking to no one in particular.
By Mariya Barakova5 years ago in Fiction
Nostalgia
As I started packing up and making my way to my car. I paused, just for a splinter of a moment. I looked back into the far right of our enormous "back yard".. and the pain of sadness began to fall upon my face. I had spent so many years of my life in these fields, looking up at the sky, taking mid day naps under my favorite pear tree, nicknamed Green Goddess (a.k.a) "Greenie".
By Monet Graham5 years ago in Fiction
A flash of green light fiction.
I hated these long rides home. The constant scoffing from the roadragers, to the raising of car horns screaming their contempt. “Get out of my way, you jerk! I have a doctor's appointment to make! And I ain’t wasting any more time!” an Elderly woman with curly white hair screamed at me. “Okay, you know what old lady? You need to calm down! I’m so done with this! Wait, I told her to calm down, and that never works,” I thought out loud. I put my head on the wheel of my car, and just sighed in frustration. “This day, could it get any worse?” I groaned overdramatically. “This just in! The east bound forty-seven has a major car accident near the sixteen, on top of another minor accident near the nine! Average delays are around ninety minutes!” a voice on the radio started to tune in. A slight groan released from my mouth. Why was it that this had to happen today? Out of all the days of the week, on this particular week on this particular day, why did this have to happen, on this day? I was frustrated and disappointed. I continued sitting in the traffic, as nothing seemed to be going anywhere, as I groaned about getting home. “I really don’t want to do this,” I grumbled as I thought about getting home.
By Jordan Zuniga5 years ago in Fiction
Before She Saves
“They’re going to kill us.” The woman speaking stood in a short corridor lit by gray sun shining in from windows to her left. Before her was a wooden door, and to her right was a log cabin wall. Behind her was a door slathered with gold paint. A large Peace symbol composed from many pieces of brightly colored glass was glued to that door.
By Timothy James Turnipseed5 years ago in Fiction
The Miraculous Green Light
I was half asleep being rocked back and forth gently as the ocean waves lapped against our boat. The night had been rough, lightning cracked all around us in hot, white, long strands of electricity. The sheets of water crashed over us and the wind threatened to rip us out of the boat and out into the sea. It was calm now and finally we were relieved to get some rest before we carried on. A warm breeze blew softly now. I looked around lazily checking around us, I decided all was well and fell back to sleep...
By Autumn Blackburn5 years ago in Fiction
