Adventure
The Way Back to Midnight
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. And every night, as a doughy-faced youth, I greeted them as many people welcome the light of morning. Not me; I’ve longed for the blush of midnight for as long as I can remember.
By Mariah Blodgett3 years ago in Fiction
Mierda
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Under a full moon, the world glowed a purple hue. I stood alone in a field with only rolling hills to see for miles. Dark green grass swayed at my ankles. Waves of wind rolled across the meadow creating a sea of greenery. To my right, I could hear soft crashing waves on the beach in the distance. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply through my nose. I held my breath, holding this moment, then gently released with a sigh. It was rare to have a moment of quiet, a moment in time where you are one with the ground you stand on.
By Monica Russell3 years ago in Fiction
A CHANCE
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. *** Six months ago, unexplained midnight sky changes over several countries radically impacted their agriculture, economy and the health of their citizens. Those few countries are now enjoying astounding prosperity and dramatic improvements in their lifestyle.
By mark william smith3 years ago in Fiction
Another World
Another World Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Though when we first arrived in this strange world nearly a year ago now the night sky appeared to be similar to that of Earth, the only reason we knew it wasn’t was the fact that there were two moons. For the first few days, we had all stuck together and formed a base camp near where we had arrived. During that time I talked to nearly 200 people to find out where they all had come from, and to my surprise, there were no two people from the same country, and not everyone spoke English, which was surprising because I could understand them all perfectly despite only being able to speak English. After a few days, everyone had begun to settle into the new routine that we all lived by now, however, that all changed on the fifth night, at midnight the sky slowly lit up almost as if the sun was rising, and majestic purple clouds began to dance across the sky. Then we were attacked by a group of twenty goblins, each one was no stronger than your average teenager but they were still able to kill ten of us before we killed them. After this, the peace that we had established crumbled like a sand castle and divisions formed, those with a weak mentality chose to either flee in fear, and others formed a group and departed to set up a new camp believing that anywhere else would be safer. By the end of the fifth day of the 195 people that had made up this camp was reduced to 100. Once we buried our dead and burnt the goblin's corpses we took what little equipment they had and began to use the weapons and armour of the monsters as our own.
By A.P Pleasant 3 years ago in Fiction
Dancing with Purple Clouds: A Magical Realism Journey
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. They twirled and swirled in a graceful dance, their edges glowing with a soft, lavender light that illuminated the darkness of the night.
By MAKING REAL MONEY3 years ago in Fiction
Midnight Clouds at Whisperwind Acres
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. And every night, like clockwork, my son and I would brush our teeth, get into our PJ's, gather our blankets and pillows, and make our way outside to settle in promptly at 11:55pm.
By Erin R. Wilson3 years ago in Fiction
Nova | Dragon Seeker
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Every time I see it, I'm reminded of the story my mom tells about my birth under this same magical display; coming into the world with purpose, at midnight on the dot. Tonight each cloud seems to have its own rhythm, swirling through the atmosphere. I’m running through a forest of giant pines, as beautiful as I remember them. They tower over me like dark guardians, piercing the lavender sky as their sappy perfume fills my senses. The breeze is cool and envelops me with a chill that tells a story of how it grazed the icy peaks above before it touched my skin. I waltz through a meadow of wildflowers, they sway with me as I dance to the song of the birds. My bare feet feel every fallen needle, every pinecone, every rock. The bears wake from their hibernation and saunter through the field alongside me, relaxing in the fresh sprouts of new grass. Spring snow falls from the plumb-colored sky and covers us with a blanket knit of violet ice crystals. I’m refreshed, grateful for its beautiful softness that creates a hush over the land. I run to the river laughing and singing as I jump into the frigid water, the moon reflected in the currents. I try to catch the moon but it escapes me every time. Peering up through the trees, I watch the lavender clouds rushing through the sky as though they are chasing a dream… I hold on to the magic of this moment with all my might. I don’t want to leave…
By Kristen Balyeat3 years ago in Fiction
