fantasy

Celebrating the fantastical. Let your imagination run wild.

words against her skin.
It took every ounce of her will to show no reaction when she saw the black book slide silently out of the fidgeting candidate’s oversized cloak and gently onto the floor; her bony fingers dug fiercely into her arms hidden deep inside the long sleeves of her shapeless outer robe, sharp reminder to keep herself in control even as her spirit screamed in shock. Her face maintained the habitual blank mask that all women had learned to cultivate in public as she deliberately steadied her breathing, sinking deep into her carefully created facade, perfected since infancy.
By Ninsidhe 6 years ago in Futurism
Woozy Wonks and the Little Black Notebook
Woozy Wonks wakes up. Wait! Who is Woozy Wonks? Simply a man who lives in a purple electric van. Do you see the man in the purple electric van?
By Charlie Le Fol6 years ago in Futurism
Dream
~~~~~~~~~~~~~Dream~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Realm of Reality (Short story) Part 1 “I could make you happy….Really happy Ryan….Please”. Stacey pleading through each text she sent and through sobbing eyes. She waited. No reply. She sobbed louder into herself. How can he not respond? After two years. Nothing. Stacey tossed the phone to the foot of the bed and sobbed silently to herself until she fell in to a numbing sleep. The phone vibrated incessantly. She woke up groggily, grabbed the phone and peered at the screen with blurred eyes. ‘Accident, Hospital. Get here NOW!!!!!’
By christina diaz6 years ago in Futurism
Within the Pages
It began with a fairy’s spell. When I was born, my mother had two best friends. It goes without saying that they would be there the day I arrived in the world. As fairies, they wanted to grace me with a gift to ready me for the rest of my life.
By Rebecca Booth6 years ago in Futurism
High-Pitched Sounds Never leave me Alone.....
You ever feel like your world can just end, and begin within that same moment? I don’t know, I don’t believe in synchronicities or that I’m saved by “our father who art in heaven”. I mean you would think me mad, hell I would think you were too. The one thing I do believe in though is me still being able to breathe... and laugh…. and smile while I tell you this story. One of such misfortune, and the highest of victories. One of hope and grace. One which involves this very coffee shop which we sit in, on this rainy day. One I can smile and laugh and remember the reason why I am breathing.
By Egypt Alnique Campbell6 years ago in Futurism
Seed of Light
Jandoo muttered next to me, “Look at her, hunched over that little black book, scribbling away. What does she think? That she mustn't miss
By Brianna Wertman6 years ago in Futurism
The Unexpected Gift of Mr. Money Bags
When Nana Jenkins gave Janice her little black book, Janice would have never guessed it with yield a spell that inadvertently granted her $20,000 from a shady, city official. Growing up in Bayview-Hunters Point gave Janice Jenkins a genuinely honest perspective on white people, particularly those from the liberal haven known as San Francisco – a city where people openly embraced diversity, while neglecting the Black community.
By Jawanza Barial-Lumumba6 years ago in Futurism
Sullivan's Book
Oxana drove for seventeen hours before finally arriving at her late brother’s home. If anyone knew Oxana, her driving a pickup truck existed in the same alternate universe as a hare hauling shell for shelter. She lived with a dogged affinity for climate change. Still, she suffered the truck, grateful in her present circumstances to have something to drive.
By M.E. Negron6 years ago in Futurism
The Book That Wrote Itself Backwards
This is an excerpt from a short story that was inspired by The Little Black Book challenge. I began writing but got carried away, and is too long to submit to this challenge. The original text is not yet complete but can be found here. I look forward to turning this idea into a series of short stories titled The Journals of Curiosity.
By Almost Bo6 years ago in Futurism
Death Danced Betwixt the Lakes
Acrid hung the air about the city of Hollágard. It was the kind of air that burned the eyes and stung the nose; that left the throat as parched as the desert, and parted with a foul taste. An oppressive air filled with unfriendly smoke, mingled with death.
By Nikolai Rambo6 years ago in Futurism
Magick and Oranges
I was letting my mind slide and twirl up and down the words spoken by my guest. There we were, at the end of the video interview and I felt satisfied. Hell, I had enough material for a whole series. We closed the discussion and I turned off and packed my gear, while the lady looked through the window.
By Laurie-Ann Desjardins6 years ago in Futurism
Never forget your wallet in the castle!
Chapter 1 "Once upon a time, far far away there lived a king…" “No, no, and once more NO!” shouted the king angrily. “It’s boring and old-fashioned. All fairy tales and chronicles start like this. Mine should be different, exceptional, royal!”
By Lubow Dabrowska-Szpakowicz6 years ago in Futurism