Arts + Entertainment
The central nexus for all things film, gaming, art, and music.
It Wasn't the First Time I Had Died
Previously it had been about my own hopes & dreams, a recognition & accepting that my life was not my own but that I had been called by another to a purpose far more debased. Not that I couldn’t have chosen my own path—I most certainly was free to do so—but it wouldn’t have gone well.
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock10 months ago in Chapters
A Pineapple Ride to Anywhere
Carter passed the binoculars to his brother as they leaned against the railing at the top of the giant pineapple. The fiberglass fruit hadn’t started life as a houseboat, but it made a damn good one once it was swept into the sea by the tsunami that wiped out eastern Queensland. Before that, it served for decades as a popular photo op entrance to a zoo.
By D. L. Lewellyn10 months ago in Fiction
The Ice Sculptor's Lament
In the land of eternal ice, where glaciers stretched out like frozen rivers and the air was crisp with the scent of winter, there lived an elderly ice sculptor named Elena. For as long as anyone could remember, Elena had been the heart and soul of the village. Her hands, weathered by time and cold, held the magic of transforming icebergs into magnificent sculptures that took the breath away from anyone who saw them.
By Ezekiel Dada10 months ago in Fiction
Summary of "Island of Secrets''
"And Then There Were None" is a riveting mystery novel written by Agatha Christie, first published in 1939. The story is widely regarded as one of Christie's most famous and masterful works, known for its intricate plot, clever twists, and psychological suspense.
By Samantha Palmer10 months ago in Fiction
little drops
There, on the little cobbled streets, little drops of rain were falling, falling on the cobblestones. I was so fixed on those little drops that I didn't even notice who was approaching from the rough sidewalk. It was her. Still so perfect in her imperfection. She moved with small quick steps, dressed in a scarlet red dress, which was soaked from the rain and emphasized her ideal forms.
By Donika Stoyanova10 months ago in Writers