Young Adult
Bull’s pen
It was 1925 in Andalusia, Spain. And it was an absolutely scorching summer. The chants from hundreds of attendees at a nearby corrida rung out in the air like deafening fireworks. A bull’s cries in the ring could also be heard; it hollered and hollered, as it knew it would not be too long until it lost its life.
By Jane Diokpo5 years ago in Fiction
The Druids and the Fireflies
Once upon a time, there were two young girls named Cassie and Ceres. Cassie is a young human sorcerer-druid, and her cousin Ceres is a half-eladrin wizard were practicing their magic spells at Cassie's family cottage in the village called the FairSpring. They're both magical people, a sorcerer and a wizard. They're also druids. Druids can manage nature-themed magic. Accordingly, Cassie and Ceres were also practicing their cantrip spells. One of them it's called druidcraft. It can whisper to the spirits of nature that it can create effects like forecasting the weather, torch the light with fire, and make the plants grow. They taught each other. They laughed together. Likewise, Cassie's stomach growls. She was embarrassed and Ceres was giggling. “Are you hungry?” Then, Cassie nodded, “yeah.” So, they decided to take a break.
By Meghan LeVaughn 5 years ago in Fiction
Across the Night Sky
The Bifrost, the bridge that carried the spirits of fallen warriors to the halls of the gods, was described as a "rainbow of three colors". Whether this applies to the Northern Lights themselves, or merely the Norse lacking names for some of the colors/shades that appear in a standard rainbow is up for debate.
By Natasja Rose5 years ago in Fiction
30B
Boarding. For the Cabin Crew, the final stage of the said procedure was too familiar. Be it as comfortable as brushing one’s teeth, even when one’s sleepiest in the early morning. However, for the passengers themselves, the procedure was a mission. Each and every one of them, were in the very midst of their own conflicts. They would squeeze or scurry through the aisles, with either a hand luggage or child’s arm in hand. Or would either show signs of heavy impatience, showing no care whatsoever. Regardless, finding the right seat, aka their designated seat was their one and only objective.
By Sandani Wijetunga5 years ago in Fiction
Where I belong
Mai came to pick me up at the airport early Sunday morning once I landed. I had begged her not to because she needed to get some rest for work, but she said she couldn't wait to see me, so I had stopped fighting her, knowing she was going to to what she wanted anyway.
By Luna de Leon5 years ago in Fiction
Chrysalism
Chapter One - Welcome to Hell Sleeping with both eyes shut was never an option. Not in this hell hole. St. Cadence’s Orphanage was far from being holy. I was abandoned here when I was born, having no recollection on who was the mutt who left me to live a godforsaken life in this place that was supposed to give me shelter.
By Thainá Kühn5 years ago in Fiction
Life as we know it..
"PUSH" I laid back on the grassy knoll while I listened to the yelling and commotion coming from inside the small, midwife trailer behind me. Mum had been in labor for thirty-two hours and we were at the tail end of the 'miracle of life'. Whoever coined that term should be disowned, the last day and a half had been enough to persuade me into a life of celibacy. Not that repopulation was something I had any interest in anyway, especially after the disaster.
By Brooklynn Brown5 years ago in Fiction
"Hashtags Alike," Book One
The ebook version of this book was published in 2021 by The Dramas of a Square, an imprint of Schwa Ink. THE DRAMAS OF A SQUARE. Copyright © 2021 by Schwa Ink. Published in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information address [email protected].
By The Dramas of a Square5 years ago in Fiction
My S.E.D. Label
When I was in high school, the guidance counselors and social service caseworkers gave me the label of S.E.D. I never understood what they meant. No one even bothered to explain their words to me. All they gave was psycho-babble and stern looks. Who cares, right? He’s just another messed up teenager with no future, except a life of drugs and crime. Didn’t anyone think to dig deeper beneath the crusty layers and help me? Finally, several years later, someone came into my life and made a difference. He was my therapist and he told me that label meant: I was Severely Emotionally Disturbed. I immediately disagreed. Yes, I was messed up—but severely, not really. There was more to me than the label. I just wanted everyone to understand.
By J.M. Troppello5 years ago in Fiction
