Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Earth.
'We Weren't Always Extinct'
In 1993, I bought this landscape stone from an Arkansas woman selling crystals for$1/pound off a table by the side of the road. Oh, I bought some crystals too, but this chunk of extinct fossil seabed grabbed my attention. From the sound of it, her husband and their sons had collected it against her advice.
By Amethyst Qu4 years ago in Earth
Healing Sword
I step onto a yard of grass, green and fresh with the rain of the day before, and I press my bare toes into it. I greet the sycamore whose roots coil below before turning to the light of the sun, rising in the east, and the warmth embraces me like a friend missed for some time. Mockingbird perches at the top of the electric pole, preening her feathers in the dawn light before singing her old song, and I quiet my mind to listen. Her songs are indigenous like me, and I always keep my ears tuned for pieces of shared language and stories about the land, and our ancestors which her kind remembers, but my people have forgotten. I take a deep breath and thank God for waking me, and for the cool of the air which I know will not last as the day progresses and the sun’s caress will turn into a harsh beating. I grip the sheath of my sword, draw the blade free and raise it to a sky tinted gold. I present my weapon to the heavens and summon energy from the high cosmos, down to my dimension to course through the tip of my sword, down the length of the gleaming blade and into me. I proceed into movement, wielding my weapon with the surety of an extended limb.
By Jarrad DeGruy4 years ago in Earth
Connecting Uniqueness
The familiar crunch under her bare feet as she steps onto the high forest's pine covered floor. Both the feel of dry needles breaking beneath her weight and the sound hitting her ears like a comforting call of mother. The layers of years creating a comfortable, padded walkway that welcomes her visits. As she steps down the slight incline lined with rocks and young plants; the world behind her fades away and she crosses a washout ditch. A simple bridge of boards, one of many you can see as you gaze down the ditch in both directions. An old toy truck sits in the dirt below the bridge, giving hints of days when childhood filled the air. Stepping from the bridge and over the berm, she finds herself in a beautiful new world.
By Jami Larson4 years ago in Earth
The Shark Was Her White Rabbit
You don’t really think about breathing until you’re running out of air. Naiad wished these thoughts would strike her at a more convenient location, above ground, where she could actually write them down. Being 60 feet underwater with dwindling oxygen was not the ideal place to have a spark of inspiration. Yet here she was.
By E.K. Daniels4 years ago in Earth
Animated Movies and The Great White Shark
Sharks in animated movies take on several roles. Often they are considered evil predators and enemies that must be defeated. They also act as rescuers in animated movies who must rescue there friends from the evil enemies of the world.
By Tanea Hill4 years ago in Earth
When The Sharks Sang
I have always said that the worst part of human beings is that they have an annoying habit of always acting human. I should know, I have been watching your species since you evolved into your wretched state. I am 3rd Assessor Vulcan, presently observing your planet, you humans, from the massive surveillance facility hundreds of feet below the surface of MARS. MARS as you know it is not Reality. Think of it as a Planet sized super computer containing technology you couldn’t possibly conceive. MARS is actually an acronym for Mobile Assessment Reconnaissance Station, and we have been doing just that since before your time. But at long last, my most sincere wish has been granted. I get to sit here, surrounded by holographic surveillance of your planet. And I get to watch it die.
By Michael Capriola4 years ago in Earth
What I have Seen
I was born as the eldest english oaks were dying. My first breath as they felt their last. A bloodthirsty king who chopped down trunks as happily as he discarded wives. The things they had seen put my own experiences to shame. I may have followed the smoky scent of Viking braids, but those trees watched the Romans leave. Drank from rivers annointed by Celtic druids and weathered storms in the company of Ursidae and Wapiti.
By Meg Foster4 years ago in Earth
Encounter
The bright morning sun lit up the new snow as if it was illuminated deep within each snowflake, all combining their light. The sky was clear and brilliant in blue. The air stings my face, but at the same time, fills my lungs with crisp, pure air, settling into the deepest part of my core. I look to the top of the hills on each side of me, feeling protected and safe within the valley's confines. The gleaming snow seems to light the woods that surround me from within. As I make my way up the snow-covered path, the blue sky breaks above. The bare, dark tree limbs seem to come together against the topaz blue sky, and the stained glass cathedral before me opens up. The snow crunches underneath my feet as I walk deeper into the hidden inner sanctum that seems to call for me. The air still stings my face, but as I walk into a clearing, I pass through a warm, bright spot that makes me look up and acknowledge the sun, appreciating it for the warmth and light it brings.
By J. Delaney-Howe4 years ago in Earth
