The ice has finally broken away from the shore and I dip my toes in tentatively. They tingle from the cold and the scales aching to emerge. I breathe deeply of the ocean breeze and the promise of freedom under the waves. 'Soon,' I think to myself as I watch the ice give way to the waves in the distance. I look around to make sure I'm alone then dip my toe again and allow the scales to ripple up my calf. 'Soon, I will be home.'
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Log Book #3
Date: Aug 3, 2100 *Aug 5 According to these logs, it has been 4 days since I left home although I don't remember if I have missed making entries. The last couple of logs are barely legible, which isn't surprising; the only thing I DO remember is how sick I was.
By Megan MacLean5 years ago in Fiction
The Devil's Cut
“Comrade, finally you’re awake.” The voice was smooth, sensual. A flickering incandescent bar was all that lit the white, sterile room. All Vladimir remembered was everything going black. He tried to move his arms and found them strapped to the gurney.
By Matthew J. Fromm4 days ago in Fiction
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Every year, the small town of Willowcreek hosted its beloved Easter egg hunt in the sprawling meadow near the woods. Families would gather, baskets in hand, to search for the brightly colored eggs hidden among the grass and trees. It was a cherished tradition, a wholesome event that brought the community together. But this year, something was different.
By V-Ink Storiesa day ago in Fiction
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