Adventure
The Power of Painting in Year 3,000: Part 2
Continuation of The Power of Painting in Year 3000 After experiencing a handful of turbulent months and a short period of grounding, it was time to move onto the next step. Answering the call to heroic adventure is not an easy feat, I guess it’s just as they say: it gets uncomfortable before real growth happens. It's quite ironic though, no matter how much hell Ako put me through I just couldn't help but love him. I made sure to wake up early today and soak in as much sun as possible. Meditated. Spent 30 minutes doing Yoga because I honestly don’t know what is ahead of me. I wrote a farewell letter to my lover in case I don’t ever make it back. Not that I would want to leave her, but sometimes we need to drop what is important to us for the greater good of humanity. *BZZZ BZZZ BZZZ* Ahh.. There’s the usual incessant buzzing of my phone.
By Patrick Oleson4 years ago in Fiction
Thaw Creatures
Introduction Living Conditions It is the year 2097 and almost 73% of the Polar Ice Caps have melted since the completion of "The Vast Shift". In 2032 the Earth's axis completely switched polarities and melted the glaciers. Most of what is the northern part of North America is at the North pole and under what is remaining of ice. The sun moved closer to the Earth and humans are unable to live above ground. They can soak up the suns energy and grow food in the shade, but if a living being were to step into the direct sun, they would receive major fourth-degree burns.
By Angela Gerber4 years ago in Fiction
Pinkie Promise
Pinkie Promise When Mary and her family decided to go the country to visit her grandmother, she’d not been pleased about it. She love her grandmother dearly, she tell the funniest stories and make the best meat pie and chocolate pudding, but Mary wanted to stay in the city and spend her time with her friends but her mother said they have to visit where she was born because she’d been away for nearly fifteen years. Her grandmother had been the one to always visit them but now they have to visit her.
By Atong Alor4 years ago in Fiction
Inheritors Of The Ancients
Chapter 1 The Call The urge had come to him late in the evening. It started off small, a longing look out of his bedroom window. The moon looked back at him, almost in invitation. Jauron thought to himself how he wouldn’t have been able to resist going into the forest if he had tried. This was not his normal escape into the woods. It was a discovery! Every cell in Jauron’s body screamed – launching each footstep forward. The desire to press onward was so strong, it was almost painful. It would not allow him to stop, even for a moment. He had to keep going. The anticipation was exhilarating, though a bit alarming. Jauron hardly ever got this excited. Normally, he tried to maintain a controlled disposition. It would be inaccurate to say he lacked emotion. It was quite the opposite…Jauron’s emotions could run wild. Hence the need for control. Already he could tell that whatever control he had would be tested to its limit.
By Jonathan La'Frank Hairston4 years ago in Fiction
Foreign to people Chpt. 8-11
Chapter 8: Casey nods her head at Julie's question and she runs off into the other room squealing. Casey walks into the next room over, I could see the whole room from this one. The room had marble floors and black granite countertops, there were a few different machines in the room,
By Abigail Wright4 years ago in Fiction
Spirit Adrift: Part I
Night came swiftly, settling its dark roots deep into the foundation of the sky, one of the few reliable patterns that marked an otherwise temperamental winter in its infancy. The solstice was a few days behind, and tonight, Lyel found himself strewn across a pile of mauve cushions neatly arranged around the mini space heater on the private terrace of his Brooklyn apartment. His skyward eyes tracked the movement of an orderly band of clouds in their procession north, their moonlight bath casting shadows on the city below.
By Nick Washington4 years ago in Fiction
The Hanging
Jason Stray wished the rope around his throat didn’t itch so much. He considered slipping his wrists out of their chains and scratching, but the guards might panic and try to secure him. It could delay his hanging and, well, that would ruin a perfectly nice day. Instead, Jason craned his neck back to take a final look at the sky. It was spotless, scrubbed clean of any cobwebby clouds. At this angle, the village’s chestnut roofs were visible, poking at the endless blue above them and blocking the endless blue behind them.
By Emy McGuire4 years ago in Fiction
