Fable
Huracn
The Carib Indians called me Huracn, Mayans knew me as Huraka. Whatever name you choose; just know I am to be feared. When I blow into town, exhibiting my full fury, the sturdiest tree will bend and snap, roofs will be torn from their anchors, and waters will rise to engulf the land that normally holds them at bay.
By Mark Gagnon3 years ago in Fiction
The Write Way to Victory
Amidst the sea of words that flow, A writer's journey must still go, Through valleys low and mountains high, To perfect their craft and reach the sky. Writing contests await, far and wide, To help hone the writer's skill and pride, To showcase their tales and heartfelt verse, And connect with readers, better or worse. Vocal.media, Writer's Digest, and more, Offer a chance to open new doors, With writing contests throughout the year, And themes that range far and near. Poets & Writers, a haven for verse, With regular contests that quench your thirst, And Winning Writers, with contests aplenty, Free to enter, to tempt the frugal penny. Reedsy, FanStory, and Gotham Writers, A trio that sparks creative fires, With monthly or weekly contests and themes, To inspire the wordsmith's wildest dreams. From The Women's Prize for Fiction to The Bath Novel Award, These contests are more than a mere reward, With cash prizes and publishing deals in sight, And opportunities to shine in the literary light. So, writers and poets, take a chance, Enter these contests and take a stance, On the path to greatness, with pen in hand, Your journey awaits, in a faraway land. - Vivia Volupta @thepleasurepen
By The Pleasure Pen3 years ago in Fiction
The rambler's rest
Ask me about heaven and I would describe a pub by a craggy seashore, flickering flames rising from an open hearth. There, I would sit resting from the day’s ramble, pint pot in hand, as I listen to an old sea dog spinning a yarn. One such seafarer, Thomas was his name, sat with me by the fire in the Rambler’s Rest one evening, telling tales of the seven seas.
By Raymond G. Taylor3 years ago in Fiction
Plagiarism
I am a sexy beast because I stole someones fucking story, Laugh out loud I stole everyones work and messed it all up with a funny twist (I hope all get kick out of this microfiction its funny as fucking hell. I am dying with laughter on the inside that is. A coke that is a coke that is perping with everything within me that is, I heard an echo, oh oh. I hate meowmix an asshole tried to feed me meowmix last night, I barfed it up and said woof woof give me blue buffalo fuck meowmix Fuck me running.
By Angelina F. Thomas3 years ago in Fiction
Word Count
As he obsessed over his word count yet again the author wondered why such an arbitrary, meaningless number, seemed to be so important to so many people. After a great deal of thought the best he could come up with was that humans have an intrinsic need to measure things and believe that a thing which cannot be measured is a thing of less value. He went to bed that night and cried himself to sleep. A thing very typical for a writer like himself.
By Everyday Junglist3 years ago in Fiction
The Stranger in The Glass
Forged Sands most would call a mirror is where she stared... Where her delicate fingers touched the cold fingers of the stranger staring back at her. Wrinkles, Scars, even lines of age etched deeply into her face. She wept, mourning the loss of her youth...
By Kaliyah Myers3 years ago in Fiction
Fable 7: The Dog and the Dragon
There once was a dog who lived on dusty streets of an island. He was a dull orange in his fur and the local humans once joked that he was ‘toasted’ by the blistering sun. The dog liked the locals. Some would be cruel or distant towards him, but others would offer him scraps. One man, who stayed in some sort of meat-house, used to offer him bones, sinews and slippery fat from his cuttings. The dog loved that man, the gifts he gave the dog were blissfully cold and always accompanied by a heavy pat on the head.
By ThatWriterWoman3 years ago in Fiction
