Fable

It's snowing in Bolqangji
Late autumn in Bolqangji is still as true to nature and still as true to the public as it was in the past. 　　At the edge of Balikun Grassland, at the end of Balikun Lake, there is a large area of endless, open and faraway wilderness Gobi, last year's autumn is this kind of solemn gray, this summer's rain washed away a layer of deposited gray, the wilderness from a year of gray, but it turns out that the wilderness below not only people know coal and other mineral resources, and sand onion and other green vegetation. As if the rain saw hope, one after another underground, the Gobi nourished into a green wilderness, know the name of a variety of wild grasses and wildflowers do not know the name are competing to open. The Gobi wilderness in Bolqangji, under the love of God and the love of the rain, showed an unprecedented style. Although not as beautiful and spectacular as imagined, people who have witnessed the past of Bolqangji have already been very satisfied, not daring to hope for a greater miracle to happen.
By DannyMox4 years ago in Fiction
The true beauty of nature
My perception of beef noodles has a process, from meeting to knowing, from strange to familiar; from the beginning to the end, and from the end back to the beginning. Between the twists and turns, a wisp of ramen, you can see the social landscape; a bowl of noodle soup, lamenting the changes of the times.
By DannyMox4 years ago in Fiction
A Plateful of Summer
It was much too hot to eat, we believed, and no matter our hunger, it was much too hot to brave the perils of the ride in a hot car, the few thousand miles we had to travel. The actual distance was fewer than a dozen miles, but we were children, and nothing was ever medium-sized to us — either gigantic, or miniscule. Degrees of intensity were a grown-up's necessity.
By Eric Wolf4 years ago in Fiction
The Owl and the Iris
There once was an owl, wise and majestic. With his dark, spotted body he would spend his time residing over the wild fields. Perched atop a branch, a king in his own right, he would look upon the splendor of the wild fields. At night, he would soar high above enjoying the fresh winds in his feathers and the freedom of his domain.
By Tiffany Fairfield4 years ago in Fiction
Inevitability
A great tribe of hunters lived on the Verdant Plain, a land filled with mystery, sprawling grasslands, and pristine rivers. Blessed by the God of the Plains, the land and water teemed with life. The brilliant sky above filled those who beheld it with wonder. The tribe had resided in the land since ancient times and moved in harmony with its seasonal undulations. Each day, a cool breeze would bring comfort to the tribe’s labors as they hunted, fished, and lived amongst each other. The hunters and scholars of the tribe were revered for their clarity of sight and wisdom of thought. They built upon the achievements of their ancestors and cultivated a great richness of life for their people. But, as time passed and the lives of the people became increasingly unburdened, a vague yet deep-seeded feeling of malcontent began to root itself within the hearts of the people.
By J. Daniels4 years ago in Fiction
The Inadequate Man
A young man once existed who felt himself inadequate. He seemed normal enough, but deep within him was a great frustration, a struggle against the way of the world. He felt that he could not tap into his own potential and met with constant disappointment. Nothing he set out to do ever bore fruit. He was considered among his peers a great failure. The day came when he had had enough and set out to a far-away land to seek the answer to this deep frustration.
By J. Daniels4 years ago in Fiction
How The Gods Built Their House
For years, I lived certain I was on the right path. But to my horror, I discovered that it was a lie. I had been deceived as a child and the decisions I had made under the auspice of righteousness had led me down a path of chaos and meaninglessness. Refusing to succumb to nihilism, I resolved to climb the mountain of the gods and beseech them to rectify all, to undo the damage I had done in my blind adherence to what I now knew to be little more than superstition and ignorance. The journey was long and miserable. I passed the Foothills of Novelty, stumbled through the Forests of Humiliation, traversed the Lava Fields of Perdition. I wept at the Fountain of Repentance, conquered my fears in the Desert of Illusion, and was stripped of everything I held dear as I climbed towards the Summit of the Gods.
By J. Daniels4 years ago in Fiction
Do You Believe In Dragons?
If, like me, you are obsessed with Game of Thrones, then dragons play a large part in your life. From the first time I saw Daenerys with her 3 dragon eggs (a wedding gift when she married Khal Drogo), to when we see the dragons fully grown, I have almost dreamt and ‘lived’ “Dragons”. Drogon is the black and red dragon and the one Deanerys rides. Rhaegal is green and bronze and he was named after her eldest brother. Viserion is cream and gold, and was named after her other brother, who met his death at the hands of Khal Drogo. The CGI in Game of Thrones just made these 3 dragons “come alive” and are a real spectacle to behold!
By Ruth Elizabeth Stiff4 years ago in Fiction
The Lady in Leaves
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. This is the story of how Norna Liście became the Lady in Leaves.
By Eliza Szymak4 years ago in Fiction
The Princess and the Peach
Abigail was a little girl who always thought that she was a princess. Her mother always treated her like a princess. Her father mostly treated her as a princess but sometimes he annoyed her by telling her that she wasn’t. She acted like a princess and had all that she wanted and that was good enough for her.
By Angela Timms4 years ago in Fiction
The dignity of an old bull
The old bull died. This old yellow cow is called "No. Riva". Each cow in the production team has a name, such as: flat horns, bull commander, white eyes, and so on. The most powerful and well-behaved cow in the herd, so we all called it the No. Liwa. It has the most service, when plowing, the community members are scrambling to grab the No. Riva, it is the biggest contribution to the production team. One day, it suddenly limped a little on its front legs, limping, as if afraid to step on the air. The team's breeder asked the veterinarian at the commune's veterinary station to take a look at it, gave it a shot, and filled it with a dose of Chinese medicine. The veterinarian said that the leg of the No. Riva may have been injured, rest for two days to get better. However, two days later, No. Riva died.
By SondJam4 years ago in Fiction
The Ladybug Who Lost Her Spots
The sun soared high on a bright spring morning over Old Mrs. Arthemis’ garden. She was a kind old lady, with curly white hair and a sweet smile, who loved to plant and grow all kinds of flowers. Her garden was the prettiest garden in the entire neighborhood, and all the children loved to visit when everything was in bloom.
By Sophia Marie Sears4 years ago in Fiction