Adventure

A Routine "Break" 1
It was in the midst of July, and the sun's hot rays were hitting Arcadion's surface like a truck. Everyone was experiencing the suffering heatwave in a train station, sitting on its passenger waiting seats that were covered by its wing-like awning.
By Harrys Stratigakis3 years ago in Fiction
Mirage
In the beginning there was emptiness. Two dozen heads-up layers blinked “running diagnostics” all at once. Diagnostics were great, thought Adrian, but he needed his eyes. Ears would also be helpful. At least the feels were back online. No part of his overengineered body felt good. Mirage filaments were stitching things back together as best they could, but there was a lot to stitch. Gyros informed Adrian he was moving a hundred kilometers an hour in one direction – and bouncing around in the others.
By Matthew Melmon3 years ago in Fiction
The Kick
I’m blaming the kick. You know, the sensation you get when you’re drifting into sleep. Where it feels like you’re falling, falling, falling. I looked it up. They’re called hypnic jerks—strong, involuntary contractions that can occur in that period between waking and sleeping. Like I said, I’m blaming the kick. Three of them tonight. And I don’t have another reason for why I am here, in another blasted vivid dream.
By Krista Palmer3 years ago in Fiction
Untitled For Now
Pain in her left shoulder, and a sudden jostling movement, that is what woke Ithaca. Her eyes were open to darkness, and her body felt bruised and cramped. Her neck and body, stiff from the twisted position of being trapped inside of a… With arms that could not easily extend, Ithaca groped for any sensation that would reveal her location. The how, who, and why were just as important questions as where and what. Equally, she had answers to none. She took in a calming breath. Closing her eyes to the dark she focused on her fingertips brushing them along the… rough wood she thought to herself. She took in another calming breath… A box, or a wooden crate she decided. Most likely, from the headache and blood pounding in her ears, probably not right side up.
By Veronica A Agers3 years ago in Fiction
Last Jump
CHAPTER 1: Spark Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say but Mel would never let her voice go silent.
By Joseph McCain3 years ago in Fiction
The Eighth Notch
I wake up with a pounding headache. I rub my temples. I guess I had too much to drink. The last thing I remember is having dinner with three friends from work. I open and close my eyes several times, trying to adjust to the light. I sit up, and the room is spinning. No, not spinning . . . just moving and moving fast. Is the room moving? I think to myself. That’s when I feel the hard surface beneath me. I ball up my fists and rub my eyes, and look around.
By Asumini C.3 years ago in Fiction
THE SKYLINE EXPRESS
*** ( Part 2 of my other story for this challenge—“The Skyline Express and the Disappearing Witch Adventure,” told from a different point of view. https://shopping-feedback.today/fiction/the-skyline-express-vr3koc0r8v )
By K.H. Obergfoll3 years ago in Fiction
The door of time
At 1:20 a.m., 35 Old Street was lit up and a large group of police officers were busy at the scene. 　　As soon as Zhang Jin walked through the door of He's house, his colleagues who arrived on the scene first told him that the deceased was writer He Da, the cause of death was unknown, his wife reported the case. He Da died in his study, the east side of a window closed, the bookcase full of books, the writing desk is still on He Da's manuscript, a cup of tea on the table is still warm. The body was in the center of the room, face up, the body was lying flat, the sweatshirt was covered with dust, there was a large wound in the abdomen, blood flowed all over the floor, from the doorway to the corridor.
By BoniuHou3 years ago in Fiction
On the Loose
It was dawn when I woke up in my sleeper car and saw snow on the cacti outside the window. Am I still dreaming? Are we in Arizona? Perhaps New Mexico?
By Angela Sherre Blair3 years ago in Fiction
Chasing a Ball Ride
I'm coming back from work on a Friday evening. It's raining, and I go slow. It's cold, and it's about to turn to sleet. On a back road, taking so much longer. Safer, my wife would say. And alive. And she'd be right.
By Amy Christie3 years ago in Fiction
The wounded crane
Zhang Hua had been working as a long-time laborer for the wealthy Li Renyi. 　　One afternoon, Zhang Hua was weeding in the mountains alone, a crane landed not far from him, lying there motionless.
By PerrPo3 years ago in Fiction
Paragon
Marcus groaned as he rolled awake. Then, for the second time in as many weeks, tried to recall why he’d found himself laying facedown on the floor of an unfamiliar, darkened room.
By Amy Lindop3 years ago in Fiction