fantasy

Celebrating the fantastical. Let your imagination run wild.

The Opening
You will never believe what I am about to tell you. Heck, I was there and I have a hard time believing it myself. Even now I hesitate, because telling about it, may place me in danger. I’m only writing it down as a means of documenting it so if something happens to me, maybe this information will fall into the right hands. Maybe it can prevent something from happening that may have otherwise been avoided.
By Marvin Scott6 years ago in Futurism
Un Tempo Senza Fine Part 2
Chapter 3: “You’re getting a lot better at this.” I looked out the door and saw luscious green everywhere, and a white horse tied up to a hitching post. I took my first step outside and breathed deep, filling my lungs with the clean air.
By Nathan Zellmer6 years ago in Futurism
Long Life Maker
"Mademoiselle," the heroine said, exasperated. "Please pardon me if I'm confused, but what is the point of owning a stationery store if you refuse to sell anything?"
By Emmanuelle Chateauneuf6 years ago in Futurism
Miracles
There was a solace in knowing that Annie could expect this work for the next hundred years, even if the work was apocalyptic at its most generous description. She worked carefully in her little black book, writing the names of those that made pacts with the Dark Lords, taking the information of the dark Minions that convinced them to give up all of their goodness, their altruism, and their compassion for a miracle.
By Sarah V. Hines6 years ago in Futurism
On the Ceiling
My classmates are on the ceiling again. I don’t know how they get their desks all the way up there. The teacher asks someone to read the next page in the textbook, one of them raises their hand, and when I look around, they’re gone. They read the page so effortlessly from the ceiling, even with all of that blood rushing to their head. I don’t get it. Do they even know they’re up there? I received quite a boost in my allowance recently, ever since mom published that one article in that one journal last year. I tried to “spend it wisely” as they say. Twenty thousand dollars for one year, just to come to this school. A school where my classmates sit on the ceiling. Maybe coming here was the wrong choice.
By 102JAMZ6 years ago in Futurism
PUT IT BACK
One moment there was nothing, and the next – there it was. A small, black notebook sat neatly in the centre of the previously unoccupied desk. Mark paused as he glanced down, his eyes widening.
By Joe Stone6 years ago in Futurism
Lost Kingdom
It was a cold winter day and all was as still in the Fint City. Yet, the world around Your Majesty was chaos. Your Majesty could not make the people of her kingdom calm down for a minute. It was all over the news to bring down Your Majesty and off with her head. Your Majesty, Your Majesty Chevron, the servant of the house stated, "the people are banging on the door." Just then Your Majesty heard yelling at the door, "Come out! Come out we know that you are in there! Your Majesty's mind raced wild with thoughts about what to do about the frantic knocks at the door. Finally, Your Majesty decided to answer the frantic knock at the door. Your Majesty called for Chevron the servant to answer the door. Chevron went to the door and opened it to a major overload of news reporters seeking comment. Your Majesty! The news reporters screamed, "What is your comment on the recent riots of the people in your land over not having money to support their families? Your Majesty looked flabbergasted at all the news reporters gathered with microphones at her door like guns. Your Majesty ascended slowly to the door in defeat to address the menacing questions. With a huge sigh that came from Your Majesty, she replied, "I know times are hard, but we have been through a lot together, and we will work through this unforeseen problem to provide for all of us. My staff and I have been putting together a stimulus package that will see that your families are well taken care of through these trying times. That is all I have for right now everyone please stay vigilant to help solve the problems we face and be safe. Good day and GOD be praised." After stating those comments, the news reporters looked pleased and relieved from the ambush of the house of Your Majesty to dismantle away from her house. Your Majesty with tears beginning to form in her eyes went retiring to her bedroom quarters for another trying and defeated day.
By Michelle Mathis6 years ago in Futurism
The Cost of Inspiration
The slowest means of travel would suit him just fine, if he did say so himself. Everyone's desire to go, go, go. It was nonsense anyway, what's the rush? Speeding to the edge of the cliff just to cry out for more time once you're pulled down into the abyss? Pure nonsense.
By Amira Muhammad6 years ago in Futurism
Fantastical Misconceptions
The weather matched my mood, gray and dreary. I sat with my head pressed against the bus window, watching the scenery pass by, my mind in a daze. The rain slid down the glass and pelted the roof, and I wondered if tears would follow. I never really knew my birth mother. I was a ward of the state from early on, hopping from foster home to foster home before I was adopted. It had been ten years since last I'd heard from her— and that only a belated birthday card in the mail. Now suddenly, even though she was deceased, she was in my life again. So, at the urging of her lawyer, I here was. On my way, to pick through the rubble of her life.
By Carla Batchelor6 years ago in Futurism
Son of the Dragon King
Five years ago, my father charged into my room and tore apart my bookshelf muttering to himself. I offered to help him search for whatever he couldn't find, but he pushed me away and left my room. My mother yelled at him as he ran across the grass into the night. A village elder came the next day and told us that if we wanted to get him back, we'd need the help of an elf.
By Stephanie Watson6 years ago in Futurism
For Your Eyes Only
The year is 2020. The world has gone to hell in so many ways I can't even see the bottom of the handbasket it came in. We have a new President everyone loves, yet this pandemic is forcing us to all become the shadows of our former selves. We now have a new social score that determines whether we can get loans, order food, or even rent an Uber. This new hierarchy is becoming the complete path to my undoing. I chose the life of a journalist in a new world where journalistic integrity is a thing of the past, which is everything I learned to fight against. My name is Elliot Larkin, and if you're a victim of the social war we have going on, you're probably thinking I'm the worst person ever. Well, you'd probably be right, but you don't know my side of the story. I'm here today to explain my side, of the well-known (#canceled story of the century). You probably won't care what I have to say at this point, but this is my last chance to get it all out of my system before I cease to exist. Let me take you back to the beginning.
By Jen Benart6 years ago in Futurism
Home....
Nyura and I were inseparable. An unlikely friendship. Me the daughter of the community nurse, recently descended from the people who had murdered Nyura’s great grandparents. Nyura with direct unbroken lineage to the land, her ancestral language and the desert economy. In our childhood play, amongst the trees, rocks and water-holes we were oblivious to the terrible history of colonial abuse and the intergenerational trauma that still played out in the community.
By Suzan Muir6 years ago in Futurism