Excerpt
Serendipitous Encounters
In the heart of the Aegean Sea lies the enchanting island of Santorini, a place where azure waters meet towering cliffs adorned with whitewashed buildings. It was on this picturesque island that Sarah found herself one summer, seeking solace from the chaos of everyday life and hoping to uncover a sense of serenity amidst the cobblestone streets and breathtaking sunsets.
By Samir hosny2 years ago in Fiction
Embracing the Darkness
Once upon a time, in a small village nestled between towering mountains and dense forests, there existed a legend as old as time itself. It was a tale whispered in hushed tones around flickering fires, a story that sent shivers down the spines of those who heard it. This was the legend of the Darkness.
By Samir hosny2 years ago in Fiction
Emotional Damage . Top Story - February 2024.
Sicily | 1943 Peering out of a pair of double glass doors, Rosalie took in the marvelous view of Canicatti’s rolling, emerald knolls, and the town’s vast array of sandstone, clay, marble, and brick structures ranging as far back as the fourteen-hundreds. Corrado paced back and forth, unimpressed with the view, and more concerned with their wrongful imprisonment.
By Kale Sinclair2 years ago in Fiction
Guardians of the Night
Something happens when we grow up. We stop believing. All of the things that frighten us, amaze us, and protect us as a child become nothing more than a figment of our childish imagination. We are so quick to tell our children that they do not exist. But what if I told you that your children are right? There really is a monster in every child’s bedroom. There is one for each child. Some of them hide under the bed. Some of them hide inside the closet. They wait and watch from outside the child's bedroom window. Most children never see their monster. They are great at disguising themselves. That scratching sound that your child hears, it’s not a tree branch. It’s not just a coat hanging on a hook that they see. The glowing eyes that seem to disappear when they look at them, it’s all real.
By David E. Perry2 years ago in Fiction
Raven
Raven’s Rage The crushed smoked air soaked the room as he stepped through the narrow cold stone entrance. A constricting burn cast a bloody shadow within his crimson charcoaled soul. He lacked an empathy for humanity, the acrid stench of it wallowing in its own self pitied destruction made his eyes shimmer black and empty.
By Raven Black2 years ago in Fiction
Doctor, Doctor | Pt. 2
Sicily | 1943 Dr. Heiko inspected the basket of medical equipment Nadine had brought him. He removed one of the boxes of bandages, tore open the corner, then dumped a handful of them out onto the table beside his scalpels. He reached back down, and pulled out the two bottles of wine.
By Kale Sinclair2 years ago in Fiction
Discipline
Sicily | 1943 Rosalie quietly led Corrado through a camouflaged passageway built into the rear wall of the terrace, down to the convent’s subterranean crypt. It was a sacred location the American and British soldiers were still ignorant of. Plus, due to the ongoing renovations, and restorations, it currently housed hundreds of old, and new church instruments used for the masses held upstairs in the church of The Madonna Della Rocca. It had become more of a glorified storage room at this point in time, and less of sanctified crypt.
By Kale Sinclair2 years ago in Fiction
Shimmers Between Worlds. Top Story - February 2024.
The ice crystals swirl in the freezing air, snow forming before his face. As the wind picks up, the snow shards move faster and faster in a flurry around his head, making him lose track of his surroundings. Not knowing which way is up and which is right, he shuts his eyes. When he opens them, he can see the image forming, clear as it can be through the blizzard happening before this wall of ice - he sees himself from the back, trading goods at an outdoor market - in another world, another life. He sees where he is somewhere else. Another gust of wind and a new flurry of snow, reveals the image of him cozy in a cabin, before a warming fireplace, holding his newborn daughter, his wife sitting beside them - a family he doesn't have here.
By Calista Marchand-Nazzaro2 years ago in Fiction
S.A.D
Winter was never my favorite season. It was cold, damp, dark, and depressing. So much so that psychologists came up with an acronym for it, like they do with everything. They called it “S.A.D.” Fitting, really, given it pretty much summed up how most people in the Northern Hemisphere felt this time of year. Despite the garbage thrown at from every wayward Hallmark movie, ‘twas not the season to be jolly. Unless there was alcohol. That helped.
By E.K. Daniels2 years ago in Fiction
