Adventure
Fly Over
My life has been simple: be given a message, tied to my leg, and I fly to my destination to deliver it. Ever since I can remember, I've always been doing this. I've seen the world more than anyone else probably. The way I just fly over the land, observing what goes down below, and how things change over time, amazes me. Like my fellow birds, I get to see from above. I get a perspective and viewpoint that very few get to see. It is something that I thoroughly enjoy.
By Birithivy Yogaratnam3 years ago in Fiction
The Spirits in the Sky
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. It was a mystical and enchanting sight that many in the small town of Briarwood had grown used to. They would gather outside their homes, staring up at the heavens in awe as the clouds swirled and twirled, changing shapes with each passing moment.
By Angel Varo3 years ago in Fiction
The Magical World of Alice
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. It was a moment that only a few lucky ones could witness, and they cherished it as if it were a secret treasure. For years, the people of the small town nestled in the valley had observed this celestial spectacle, but they had never dared to question its existence. They accepted it as a part of their daily routine, like the sunrise or the birds chirping in the morning.
By Angel Varo3 years ago in Fiction
The Owl Named Hoot
In the depths of the forest, there lived a wise old owl named Hoot. Hoot was no ordinary owl; he had a gift that allowed him to speak to humans. However, Hoot knew better than to reveal this gift to just anyone. He only spoke to those he deemed worthy of his knowledge.
By Angel Varo3 years ago in Fiction
Ancient Whispers
As Knud stumbled home from the local mead, he heard a mysterious voice call out his name from the darkness at the old boat pier. Drunk and curious, Knud followed the voice into the darkness. The moonlight was his only guide across the old rickety wooden planks of the pier. Knud came across an old wooden longboat. The round shields that clung to the boat's sides carried the marks of battles fought long ago. Two large black ravens circled above the mast, grabbing Knud’s attention for a moment. He then noticed an old man with a wide-brimmed hat and cloak sitting at the bow with an ornate spear in his right hand. The tip of the spear glinted in the moonlight. Upon closer inspection, the old man’s face was heavily weathered from years of sun exposure and the salty spray of seawater. The old man’s right eye was hidden behind a tattered cloth bandage.
By Last Irish Viking3 years ago in Fiction
The alchemist book review
Start Famous Brazilian writer Paulo Coelho was born on August 24, 1947, in Rio de Janeiro. From a young age, he dreamed of becoming a writer. His parents tried to treat him with medications when he was seventeen in a psychiatric hospital. At the age of 20, he gave up his dream and went to a law school under his parents’ pressure, but he dropped out a year later. In 1988, he published “The Alchemist”, which was translated into 67 languages and sold 65 million copies.
By Eran yeager3 years ago in Fiction
Journey to the Moon
The moonlight scattered into glittering fragments over the undulating waves…lunar pearls from outer space. The stars above etched into heaven’s black mantle, and the crystals of shattered moonlight below…made for an enchanting sight…the heavens and the earth mirroring one another. This tableau was accompanied by the melody of waves, a soothing song imbued with the ocean’s essence. Standing beside the boat anchored to the docks, I breathed deeply…watching the waves lapping against the rocks, sending mists of water in the air.
By Fezan Javed3 years ago in Fiction
Little Mouse
“Hello, Little Mouse.” Pippa saluted me. Her smile was half-cocked. She then blew a raspberry, as her laughter at herself for her own silliness, pushed through her lips. She fetched me some already-shelled peanuts, from a jar behind the bar. She laid three halves in front of me.
By Julia Sinton3 years ago in Fiction
