Josiah Freeman

Joined December 2021

5 stories

Stories (5)

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The Taste of Summer
What is Summer? Is it merely a season of the year, is it camping in the woods exploring off the trails, or perhaps it is being huddled around a bonfire at the beach in the dark with friends and family.
By Josiah Freeman4 years ago in Families
The Dragon Crest Wars
There weren’t always Dragons in the Valley. The Valley used just to be a mashup of different races, a plot of land where none had claim nor wanted it. It was a place for those who couldn’t call anywhere else home, but no one ever called the Valley home. The Valley was just a place you ended up, it wasn’t ever the place you were trying to end up. I said none had a claim to it, and I’m sticking with those words but technically the Valley did have a sort of pseudo Government structure led by the Prefect.
By Josiah Freeman4 years ago in Fiction
Moonbeam Dreamer, Have You Seen Her?
I can see colors, reds, greens, even blues They’re present like an afterthought, a distant existence I was okay living in world of color, my loneliness fit in
By Josiah Freeman4 years ago in Poets
Wings of an Owl
The young boy was slammed into the wall with enough force to expel the air from his lungs. He was fighting tears as he huddled himself up into a ball. She was screaming at him, telling him to stand up. He wanted to do anything else, be anywhere else, than to stand up for her at that moment. He knew though, if he didn’t stand up, she would come over to him and it wouldn’t matter anyway. He couldn’t run anywhere. He had nowhere else to go. She was screaming profanities at him still, telling him how worthless he was. He bit his lip to try and stop the tears as he stood up against the wall before her. He wanted to stand tall. He wanted to stay strong, but he was just a child, and the moment she started throwing things at him he instinctively cowered.
By Josiah Freeman4 years ago in Fiction
The Boy Who Knew an Angel
The air was crisp, cold, and an unforgiving wind chased the trees through the forest. The boy sat on a fallen tree rubbing his hands together, exhaling into them to warm up his tiny fingers. How much longer could he stay here? His father always said, ‘if you’re ever lost, stay put. Do not wander around. I will come to find you, just wait for me.’ He never thought he would have to heed his father’s advice, but in the forest, under snowfall, he was beginning to become frightened. As day turned to dusk and his temperature continued to drop the boy began to cry.
By Josiah Freeman4 years ago in Fiction