Adventure

Emerald Sky
It all started, strange enough, with a warning of sorts. The village drunk, Pete Richards had stumbled out of the bar and worked his way over towards the docks.
By Ryan and Leann4 years ago in Fiction
The Life And Death Of Jeremiah Ward
"Jeremiah August Ward passed away on September 7th, 2022 but, his name is of little consequence. He will not be missed or remembered. His body is but a trivial thing and, it is not to be looked for. He died in the only place that he ever felt comfortable. He was preceded in death by his parents George and Cynthia Ward. He leaves all of his belonging to Bob Fredrick Jensen, the only person who could half stand him."
By Megan Moberg4 years ago in Fiction
Weight of the World
The blinking green light was the first thing I saw when my eyes opened. It flashed -in, out, in, out- as if on a timer. Everything was dark save for that light, yet my eyes had no trouble deciphering the shapes and forms surrounding me. Maybe I can't tell what they are, given my limited knowledge of the world of humans, but at least I can see.
By Heather Miller4 years ago in Fiction
Moon of the Minotaur
“Just breathe.” Low growls answered, followed by hoarse exchanges of air. “I am.” “This will be over soon, Ty.” “It’s never that easy, Theo,” Tyler scoffed between his cycle of inhales and exhales.
By Brandon Hoy4 years ago in Fiction
The Mountain and The Wizard
***READ IN OLD FAIRY TALE TONE*** There once was a village that stood in the center of a valley. The village was prosperous and peaceful, yet small and simple. Life for everyone who lived there was easy and effortless but also unexciting and eventless. Massive mountains surrounded the valley on all four sides, the largest of which was to the North. On the Great Northern Mountain there was said to live a Wizard who watched over the village from afar. The villagers praised the Wizard for his protection and providence.
By Amber Trudeau4 years ago in Fiction
Where Dreams Lead
“Patience granddaughter,” the old man said for the tenth time. He didn’t need to look up to know that she was rolling her eyes at him, yet again. He smiled, but she hadn’t noticed, his face pointed down towards the black hole drilled into the hard ice between his feet.
By Glen Adams (glenadams.com)4 years ago in Fiction
The Darkness Before the Dawn
Some of the characters may look familiar from my stories Black Summer and Deep Sea. Those short stories were earlier works that eventually became this series.
By Natasja Rose4 years ago in Fiction
An untold story of one seaman
My entire life I have never met a person who would be indifferent to the sea. Most people love the sea, adore it. They picture slowly dancing turquoise waves, a light breeze and specular surface reflecting the skies. Hundreds of poets, musicians and artists are inspired by the sea and dedicate their works to it. As for me, I hate it. I hate the waters with all my heart and soul. Perhaps, because I often see the ugly and horrific side of the sea, the wild roar of cold plumbeous waves, a deafening howl of wind and the hopeless and desperate cries of fellow sailors. The sea is a starving beast, devouring everything that gets in its way. It`s a ruthless abyss, dragging down the victims indiscriminately.
By Ana Frowley4 years ago in Fiction
Prequel: Pasadena
My fingers tightened on the wheel and my shoulders hunched in frustration as the traffic crept slowly forward through the dark orange haze. With the wind from the north, the smoke from the fires in the Angeles National Forest choked the air. One of the benefits of living in Altadena, in addition to not being the only black face in the neighborhood, was the commute on surface streets rather than SoCal freeways. It usually took just 10 minutes to get to work. Traffic this morning though was slow, due to the unusual darkness and eerie hue caused by atmospheric smoke particles filtering out the blue wavelengths from the morning sunlight. As entrancing as the effect had been when I first experienced it while at Berkeley during the fires in 2020, the thrill had worn off with repetition. The traffic started to ease after I entered the park and, relaxing slightly, I turned north and soon was pulling into the Jet Propulsion Laboratory parking lot. The lot still half empty I was able to park near the entrance. Checking the fit of my N95 mask, left over from the pandemic, I got out of the Audi and quickly shut the door behind me. Through the fall of fine grey ash I headed into the building.
By Joe Dews4 years ago in Fiction
Golden Summer
It was noon on Friday. John and Mike sat at Pete’s table with Pete. Alice was waiting by the door expectantly. She was giddy as a child about to open a present. Pete was making small talk when the bell on the door rang out across the room. All conversation stopped as a woman in her thirties entered the restaurant. She had golden hair, crystal clear blue eyes, and a svelte figure. She was wearing a hunter’s outfit that was all green except for the one bit of color. On her right breast pocket was a marigold flower. Mike was entranced by her. Pete reached over the table and with his index finger closed Mike’s gaping mouth. “Mike, keep your composure.” John remarked. Mike shook his head to break the reverie as Alice was nearly skipping beside Joanne as the two women approached the table.
By Chris Purdom4 years ago in Fiction
The Marigolds
Trust yourself, and only yourself. That's what you learn from being a born and bred pageant girl. Everybody's just looking for somebody vulnerable to ally with. But as soon as you have no use any more, the knife appears. In your back.
By Kay Burwell4 years ago in Fiction
A Wild Storm
“We should be coming close to our stop.” Joshua whispered. We couldn’t risk any of Mr. Brooks’s men hearing our plan. My heart was pounding with fear even thinking about what could happen at the next train stop if we waited it out.
By Gabriella Dawson4 years ago in Fiction