short story
The crow that refuses to fly
There is a little crow, with a healthy body and strong and complete wings, but never flies, no matter where he goes, or how far he walks, he only uses his legs to walk. Being a bird but refusing to fly, the little crow is not ashamed, but is content with the status quo: "There are many advantages to walking, you don't have to worry about thunder and rain, you don't have to worry about falling and getting hurt, and you can pick up change from time to time."
By megangochoa4 years ago in Earth
Is Anyone Out There?
It was June of 1992. I was a single mom of two very impressionable teenage boys. No, they weren’t perfect, and they weren’t mean-spirited, or wild. They were normal teens – well, ok, they were older teens. They were 16 and 18. We talked about everything and anything and often, we’d disagree. More often, being the teens they were, they’d agree with each other leaving their mom out of the loop, or, just maybe, I was in the loop, and they weren’t.
By Margaret Brennan4 years ago in Earth
The Growing of a Melon
Plans were made to meet at the beach. A short gravel trail led them to an opening at the end of the peninsula. An old dried oak tree, sun baked and withered, was partially dug into the sand. They leaned their bikes and backs against it and began unpacking their bags. Smiles were passed from face to face with the radiant glow of summer sun bouncing off of their teeth in glimmering winks. They were ageless, no signs of life's traumas were displayed upon their faces. The food they unpacked was young and healthy. A container of watermelon slices from a melon with a yellow belly. An assortment of cheeses which, now with the heat blaring down upon them, they were growing concerned for. Bottles of wine, cheap but desirable nonetheless, passed from mouth to mouth. Sweet loving glances, passed from eye to eye from friend to friend as the juices of the fruits dripped down their chins and the seeds stuck in their teeth. The waves in the distance brought in the smell of the sea. A salty humid air, clinging to their skin, wrapping them into their environment as though they were no more than a stone or a shell. And they weren’t.
By Neil Jefferies4 years ago in Earth
The Valley
There weren’t always dragons in the valley, in fact there never were. Though many a weary traveler claimed there must be those manipulating the minds of passersby and turning them mad with savagery. Angsty and euphoric bound to strip naked and frolic through the wilderness, to never return, and boy did they. “The valley” was this special place between the top of the world and the pits of hell. A town like any other, with people who lived there and roamed its streets, jetting around to the local pub, and grocer, dirt strapped tires, a certain twang clinging to the words they spoke. Everyone knew each other, and if they didn’t, you could bet it would be their business too, after seeing you more than a time or two. Plenty of tourists went through these parts, but none really ever stayed too long, you see they had lives of their own and homes to get back too, and this place was amusing enough…for a while. They had real life ventures to take part in, business to instigate and follow through on. So the town was littered with sporadic, nomadic, venture filled fiends that raised the price of a common mole hole to far more than it should be. Clearly there was allure in these mountains that made them gather, but also, a darkness here that made them flee, it lived in the shadows of the trees and the underside of potholes, it burned down throats with the taste of whiskey, a certain kind of mania, just on the brink of reality.
By Gabrielle Rodowicz4 years ago in Earth
Past the Point of No Return
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. The cryptic remark kept sifting through Karri’s thoughts as she abandoned the council. Concluding a long and dire meeting, the elder scribe had turned to her - as she often did - and shared yet another small, indiscernible piece of a puzzling narrative that surrounded the Valley’s origins.
By Jenna Sedi4 years ago in Earth
Gaia's Grievances
I woke up in a cold sweat again. My body was half in, half out of the blankets, my nylon shorts riding up my thigh in a desperate attempt to cool my overheated skin. My shirt was glued to my back, my long blonde hair bleached with perspiration as if I had taken a shower the night before.
By Charleigh Justice4 years ago in Earth
Red Berry and the Fire Spirits
Many years ago, when the world was still young, and the land from beyond the valley had not yet filled with the many tribes of man, there was the First Tribe of man, and their story, our story, began in distance valley. Our first home.
By Charlene Moorehead4 years ago in Earth
To Be Loved By Sunshine
I could lay here blissfully for the rest of my life. The smell of dirt and grass filled my nostrils. A light breeze running through my hair. I could feel it through my eyelashes. Lifting away the hardships of the past several years. I breathed it all in, I breathed in life for the first time since I was a child. Remembering what it was that I loved about the countryside. Away from the desks and computers, the people, the constant clatter of machinery slaving away.
By Hayden N Bell4 years ago in Earth
The Woods
The olden wooden bridge echoed each step as the heel of my black leather boots tapped the slats that stretched the width of the winter river below. As I walked, my slender piano fingers glided over the splintered railing to the rhythm of the rushing water underfoot. Extended fingers searched for the smooth silvery heads of the nails amidst the weathered splintered planks. With each needle-sharp snag, my hand jumped slightly to avoid sticking myself.
By Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales4 years ago in Earth
