Fan Fiction
Dreamland (sequel to Screamland)
It has been six solid months since Kedamono and Popee started dating. They finally have saved enough to move out of their boarding room that was out of a crumbling, old building. It was an old fashioned building that looked like it served as a trading post for soldiers in World War One, and the landlord was just as old fashioned.
By Melissa Ingoldsby4 years ago in Fiction
The Ivory Hummingbird
My mother kept her magic on expensive things, and she would take them out to show off her powers every time I visited her. The new item he bought was a hummingbird, carved in ivory, with a red ruby around his throat. It was a fine work of art, but what I thought was a dead elephant for the benefit of some hunter.
By Puja sharma4 years ago in Fiction
Deep, dark, cold blue
The night it all started, the air was crisp and chilly, but overhead, there were sprinklings of stars dotting the milky blue and black expanse. The moon was right there in front of us, laying across the sky like a lonely sleeping goddess, winking at us.
By Melissa Ingoldsby4 years ago in Fiction
A Wrinkle Ironed Out
Ada lies on her back, her face about an inch from the roof of the cathedral, and she rubs the ashes with damp cotton swabs. The left elbow of the Virgin Mary approaches her, a small piece of blue appears, the latter in a vibrant field of color drawn out in the dark. When Ada was a child, a project like this would authorize a team of conservationists, a film crew, a book on both front and back. As he grew up, Calmness sat on the ground like a woolen garment, and our interests shrunk and returned to our doors, to our paths, to the curtained rooms. The cathedral is no longer holding services, and Ada is familiar with her values alone and unseen.
By Anisha dahal4 years ago in Fiction
Hero
"How is he?" Asks my sister as she walks into my room. "It's not good." Our mother is standing at a window, her shadow shining like a beacon in the middle of the city. "During the day, you're fine. Even smiling. But at night." As he turns, our mother's gray face moves. "I'm running out of options here, Maggie."
By Saroj Rana4 years ago in Fiction
Everyone Loves A Hero
The hero roars at his Harley and sends out laughter that can melt the ice cave. "Hey, sir, what's new?" I can tell you personally that it is impossible to hate a hero. It is also difficult to date a single person unless you enjoy clinging to a cliff, chasing soldiers in a burning building, or wrestling victoriously against the chains that bind you on the tracks. If not, you will never get his full attention. He is busy running out the front door, still chewing half a mouthful of whole-grain pasta that you have baked because there is an earthquake or a human cat tied to a tree.
By Saroj Rana4 years ago in Fiction
