Navian Shull
Bio
Welcome to the page! I’m a young writer starting out with a dream of becoming an author. I hope you enjoy the writing and I’m always open to critique. Thank you for the support!
He/Him pronouns
Stories (2)
Filter by community
Beside the Sea
A gentle wave washes across the shore, as a mound of sand, half a mile away, is disturbed from below. Small and shifting from the nest, the baby turtles begin to emerge, embraced by the light of the sun. Slowly a small few begin to leave the nest and go forth towards the treacherous journey ahead towards the calming water. Stumbling over broken eggshells, one by one, the turtles embark. Across the sandy beach, rocks, and seashells alike, the turtles keep their eyes open for any pending danger from above. A few drift apart from the group embarking on their own journey towards the beach. Unaware of the direction they have taken, a group of feasting seagulls await their approach. The rest of the hatchlings continue in their tight group holding steadfast towards the embracing ocean before them. The water waiting to splash a refreshing welcome across the shells of the many or few fated to reach the ocean. As the turtles begin to reach the water, a feeling of relief as they approach, washes over the hatchlings. A few hungry seagulls may have taken what seemed like a handful but as the little hatchlings dive into the water's welcome, they have realized only thirty of the one hundred have made it home. The start of a new journey begins for the hatchlings as they begin to embrace the water.
By Navian Shull2 years ago in Fiction
Home
How do I explain? How do I go from here and breath in this air that slowly pushes us to an end? How do I explain that with each step and breath of air, I still find myself entangled in the beauty? Surrounded every day by the quakes and fires, the tears and the dreaded hours spent in our life, and yet I am still caught up by this breath of life. The quakes with their astounding, breathtaking force, able to uproot our minds and change where we stand. Forever moving ourselves into a different being. The fires forceful and bright, bearing fear for a moment but at the end we can collect and rebuild. Standing tall as we have faced the fire and made it through the other side able to grow as the forest rebuilds from the ashes. Tears coming as a notion we have survived, we live on and yet relieving the feelings we had been hurt before. Those dreadful things in our waking moments, encapsulating an eternity of our time, our short mesmerizing time, however growing us but keeping us firm in our roots. This world goes on without saying, without a breath, it goes on. The end of our time is only a continuation of time itself.
By Navian Shull3 years ago in Fiction
