Fantasy
Woman at a Coffee Shop
I glance up to my right to look out of the window, the sound of a barking dog sounds way closer than the dog park at the other end of the coffee shop. I don't see any dogs directly outside of the window and I let my eyes wander back inside the building and skim over the couch area across from me. To my surprise, a woman looks up from the book she is reading and catches my gaze. It is only for a second but I feel a pang of familiarity, and she is beautiful. She is glowing, her skin looks like Agua de Tamarindo in the sunlight and her silky straight, black hair is pulled back into a high ponytail. Baby hairs frame her round-almond eyes; casually elegant. My eyes move away from hers, quickly but reluctantly, focusing back on the paper in front of me. Her eyes move away just as quickly, settling onto the page of the book in her hands.
By Xiomara Anais4 years ago in Fiction
Dedicated (Chapter 2)
Read Chapter 1: Sun And now... He found Becker seated at the desk in the near corner of the garage, where the breeze coming in through the overhead doors ruffled his grizzled mane. The sinking sun had turned the sky a blaze of gold, and deep within the shop, rows of incandescent lights had blinked to life over the mechanic bays. The smell of grease mingled with the clanking tools, sputtering engine noises, and muttered curses.
By T.J. Samek4 years ago in Fiction
The Spotlight Boy
A small glossy white speck of frozen water swayed gracefully back and forth until it gently kissed the delicate snow on the forest ground. A wolf far off in the distanced whined to the moon, as it did every night, as if waiting for an answer. A snowy owl twisted its head around trying to pick up a whisper from a mouse below in the subnivean zone; where all the mice scurried about during the bitter cold season. A repeated crunching in the snow was then heard drawing ever closer to the scene. All the animals turning their ears to a new sound that was making it's way to them. And from the shadows came a young boy in winter boots, he was carrying a dismal frown and gloomy green eyes that focused on the snow crunching under his feet. The furry hood of his coat sagged down off his head, revealing shaggy, dirty blonde hair. His snow clothes engulfed his body, but it did not make him feel suffocated. He rather enjoyed the warmth hidden away from the piercing chills outside. But the most noticeable thing about him, were the ice skates gripped firmly in his hands.
By Madison B. 4 years ago in Fiction
Wrath of Night Chapter 4
Kincaid continues narrating his flashback to New York City 1975. "The heart rate monitor beeped in a normal rhythm. Outside on the street, zombies converged upon the emergency response. Police officers uselessly fire their sidearms, but it doesn't stop the army of undead from tearing them apart.
By Alex Kincaid4 years ago in Fiction
Dancing in the Weeds
They walked into a quiet hovel, mouth dry and eyes weary. There we no frills. No bells and whistles. The establishment if it could be called that was bare bones and they appreciated that. They looked around and found there were empty benches and chairs scattered through out the room. The walls were once a light gray but now yellowed with age and remnants of old ink. The floors were a type of wood but sank in places from years of improper care. There were end tables of formica and particle board that crumbled in the slightly damp atmosphere.
By Bianca Hubbard4 years ago in Fiction
Entity, Entropy, Ennui
I’m a restless heathen pacing the corridors of my mind. I’m a greying teenager wanting to forgo responsibility for role-playing and fantasy. I’m my own comic book character, and I’m stuck in the clutches of my arch nemesis, whose name, he has claimed, is Mundanity.
By Houston Southard4 years ago in Fiction
Wonderfully Wicked
Four years ago. Fifteen year old Everest sits on top of the grassy restful hill, watching his father's village and the green nature around him. He picks at the grass beneath, twirling the few pieces in between his rich chocolate fingers. He inhales the sweet aroma of the jasmine filled air, he's always adored the scent that filled that part of the kingdom. He closes his eyes and lets the spring breeze flow around him.
By Katie Beth4 years ago in Fiction
