Fable

Insect decide.
"What the hell is wrong with you bee?” “You’re in my way worm.” “I am eating and I certainly am not a worm.” “Then what are you worm?”
By Russell Ormsby 4 years ago in Fiction
Curious
Anna Williams grew up in a wealthy family. She had everything she could ever ask for; she was raised by a nanny, taught by the finest tutors her father could buy, dressed in ribbons and lace. If she ever left the manor, it was to attend parties at the homes of her parent’s friends, and she was often left at home for such events in any case. Anna felt trapped in her home, in the routines and familiarity. To entertain herself, she explored her home and the surrounding gardens. She wanted to see every room in the house, look in every closet, open every drawer. She even looked inside all of the little boxes and bottles that were sitting on vanities and tables. She was frequently disappointed to find them empty, but was always delighted to find various accessories and makeups in the vanities, or pens and stamps in the writing desks.
By Tristin Roholt4 years ago in Fiction
The Undistinguished Prince
Ab-lukam Ahmed was born third in King Ahmed's line, with absolutely nothing to distinguish him—his face was not beautiful and did not grow a fulsome beard; his voice did not ease, persuade, or command; he had no genius with the sword and shield; and his father's voice did not saturate with joy whenever Ab-lukam walked in the room.
By Christopher Fin4 years ago in Fiction
A Whimsical Wombat Tale
Once upon a time, not so very long ago and not so very far away, there lived a whimsical wombat named Wiggle. As one might expect, Wiggle was often given to bouts of waggish whimsy. This was indeed the case on this day when Wiggle threw open the front door of his house and launched himself across the threshold, intending to skip all the way to wherever he was going (he had not thought of a destination just yet).
By Jim Sprouse4 years ago in Fiction
The Journey to The Pond of Souls
“It was a different time. Back when all these fizzling gadgets didn’t exist. Back when there were none of the clanking bells of industry to drown the songs of the animas. Back when there was magic in the world. That didn’t mean the world was any better. In fact, it was much worse. Most spirits were malevolent, evil creatures. Most magic was used for greed and anger. But, in that chaos and hell, she was born from fire with a face chiseled of dark bronze and a spirit forged from determination, she was brought into this world to serve, but she was never meant to. Kiya, a beggar, was thirteen years old when she made the journey.
By Arjun Gupte4 years ago in Fiction
A Shark Named Lani
In the cool ocean waters, beneath the wan light of the moon, is a world free of Man; free of them but concerned by them all the same. The silvery light that beamed down failed to make it far into the indigo waters, but near the surface swam two graceful creatures, their pale bodies gliding in and around the beams that shown through the water.
By Travis Pittman4 years ago in Fiction
Underwater Adventure
Teri and Rodrigo reluctantly left the magical fairies to their argument over the perfect type of sprinkles for a birthday cake, and headed off for the birthday lunch. Rodrigo’s mom had fixed his favorite food, he and Teri scarfed down the taquitos, chips with delicious homemade salsa, and licked their fingers clean after devouring honey drizzled sopapillas.
By Viltinga Rasytoja4 years ago in Fiction
Marigold For My Tea
It was the middle of August, and the countryside was well into summer. The air was warm and slightly humid. Green leaves covered the trees, giving shade to the children beneath and coverage for those hiding in the branches. In the fields surrounding the village the crops grew tall and animals grazed, and in the kitchens jars were being prepared for pickling and preserving. The people felt good about the upcoming harvest and that they would be well prepared for the winter that would follow.
By Sorcha Monk 4 years ago in Fiction
Rumpelstiltskin: Child Eater
Once upon a time there was a poor kingdom called Douran ruled by a sad and lonely King. His storehouses were bereft of gold, and though he was still in the prime of his youth, he had neither wife nor heir to succeed after him. As a result, his kingdom was governed by fear and darkness. Unrest lived in the hearts of the people and the land was under constant threat of war.
By J.C. Winter4 years ago in Fiction
Damaged
She was damaged. She had managed to break free of the chains that bound her, but the effort had cost her much. Her left ankle was swollen and bloody, and her left wing was crushed and bruised, making flight impossible.
By Dawn Harper4 years ago in Fiction
An Empty Box of Heaven
Doomsday doesn’t usually show up wrapped in brown paper, Astrid thought. Does it? She wasn’t sure how doomsday got around these days, but she figured it would want something a bit more flashy than a box in brown wrapping paper, tied up with twine. Honestly, who wraps packages like that anymore? She was certain the post office and other carriers would consider that undeliverable. Get all caught up in their machines, right? Nevertheless, there was a package on her tiny front porch, centered precisely between the wrought iron railings, her front door, and the first step.
By Robert John Jenson4 years ago in Fiction
The Heartless Farmer
The old barn sat a little way from a rundown farmhouse, where the farmer lived alone. Once upon a time, the farmer had been a happy man. The townsfolk had frequented his store for his fine produce, and he and his wife were welcomed and elevated at social gatherings the year round.
By J B Swift4 years ago in Fiction