Excerpt
A Canopy
The trap worked. When the beast took the bait, the trap closed down hard like an arrow. Its hind legs were crushed; its bones came jutting out like warm glue. It was a wacky thing to view, this beast succumbing to my homemade trap. I had used nothing but sticks and wines from the canopy. I stood in front of the beast, not worried that it might hurt me; it was in agony from its broken legs. I removed one of the sticks from the beast and licked the blood clean off. Yum.
By Justin Fong Cruz4 years ago in Fiction
Excerpts from the Teklirian Manuscript:
Introduction What draws a potential practitioner to the necromantic arts can be any number of things, but for each it is undeniably personal. For some it’s vengeance at a raw childhood. For others, mere curiosity coupled with an unexpected knack. And still others are drawn to it out of fear or a need for power over that which chills them. There are more reasons than there are necromancers, but one unifying theme is clear: the capacity and tenacity for arduous study.
By Max Gibbs-Ruby (he/him or they/them)4 years ago in Fiction
Garden
The angel takes the girl by the hand and draws her toward him, staring deeply into her eyes and smiling at what he sees. He turns and begins to walk forward, leading her deeper into his beautiful garden, shimmering in the afternoon light. The girl never takes her eyes off him. His body bare, thin but muscular.
By Lauren Clamp4 years ago in Fiction
Marigold Blues
The grand opening of Tailyour Stories and Coffee Shoppe is just two weeks away, and there is so much left to do. Dom is looking for Nate. My mother is trying to get me to talk to Sarah. She can jump in the lake as far as I’m concerned. I am sitting in the middle of the store sorting gifts for the shelves getting more flustered by the minute. Nothing seems to be going right today.
By Kathy Saunders4 years ago in Fiction
A MARIGOLD, I PRAY TO BE.
“What you say about the dead make sure you say about the living”, the man at the podium spoke loud and clear. “You know, you say love is love, and beauty is in the eye of the beholder, they are all just words”, he continued. Nesim looked around, the whole place had their heads bowed, tears streaming down their face, he did not know any of them, yet his heart was being torn from his chest. The man continued “Life does not wait for the dead to arrive, and you my friends should be no different, tomorrow is a new day and there are no yesterdays, just some other day, a long-time ago we shared in this journey of life”.
By Rebecca Clarkson4 years ago in Fiction
The 8-tol Project
"The 8-tol Project was an idea of my mind. It was meant to be used for deep sea research, but the oil companies were the ones who flipped the bill. So I caved to provide a good home for my family. My name is Kal Rivera; top of class MIT engineering graduate, under contract with Exxon Mobil for its inception.
By Sunday Gracia4 years ago in Fiction
Black Moon
He was born when the Sun wrestled Gemini and fiery Leo loomed on the horizon. The stars never promised him much, the way he saw it. Maybe they held the backdrop of the universe in place, or maybe they were random balls of gas floating around waiting to collide. Maybe they were the whispered secrets of the gods, complex codes for understanding the past and predicting the future, but he found that theory amusing, at best.
By Christa Leigh4 years ago in Fiction
An Apple A Day
My grandma packed my grandfather’s lunch everyday, and mine when the time came for me to go to school. Usually, a turkey and cheese sandwich, his with mayo and mine without, a bag of potato chips, an apple and two quarters settled at the bottom. I bought a soda with those quarters on the first day of school of each school year to establish myself, set the tone. Most kids in school didn’t pack soda, mainly juice boxes or water, if their mom was a health freak. I was one of the only kids who had a soda. I would stop at the corner store on the walk to school, buy a can, and reveal it at the lunch table, you would think I pulled a bunny out of my hat based on the reactions.
By R.A. Moseley4 years ago in Fiction
