Historical
Talking Rabbit's Discovery
Once upon a time, in a dense forest filled with all sorts of animals, there lived a tiny, fluffy rabbit named Benny. Benny was not an ordinary rabbit, for he had a unique ability - he could talk to people. None of the other animals knew about this because Benny had kept his ability a secret.
By Angel Varo3 years ago in Fiction
Fly Over
My life has been simple: be given a message, tied to my leg, and I fly to my destination to deliver it. Ever since I can remember, I've always been doing this. I've seen the world more than anyone else probably. The way I just fly over the land, observing what goes down below, and how things change over time, amazes me. Like my fellow birds, I get to see from above. I get a perspective and viewpoint that very few get to see. It is something that I thoroughly enjoy.
By Birithivy Yogaratnam3 years ago in Fiction
The Way It Must Be
ALL ALONG THE PROMENADE, the crowd, roused, ebullient and unsatisfied, like at any mass gathering, moved buoyantly like a school of fish, anxious about what had recently transpired that Sunday morning, barely moments ago. Smoke had yet to settle, but news disseminated quickly among the townspeople, either making their way home, or going about their daily business. Some folks were dumbstruck, and ambulated about carelessly, like lost lambs, herding and gawking. Others still, shrieked in fear after having seen such a grisly event fulminate before them, and resoundingly so; or cried out in distress, and limped, or were carried hurriedly away from the scene, bloodied and bent. While whistles echoed and sounded down the broadest boulevards and the slenderest streets, as police shepherded the host of onlookers away from the origin of chaos, and corralled a handful of those whom they felt had felonious faces. How such a joyous mood in the city could so swiftly turn dark-hearted was to the young man… illuminating.
By Samuel Andrew Milner3 years ago in Fiction
Ancient Whispers
As Knud stumbled home from the local mead, he heard a mysterious voice call out his name from the darkness at the old boat pier. Drunk and curious, Knud followed the voice into the darkness. The moonlight was his only guide across the old rickety wooden planks of the pier. Knud came across an old wooden longboat. The round shields that clung to the boat's sides carried the marks of battles fought long ago. Two large black ravens circled above the mast, grabbing Knud’s attention for a moment. He then noticed an old man with a wide-brimmed hat and cloak sitting at the bow with an ornate spear in his right hand. The tip of the spear glinted in the moonlight. Upon closer inspection, the old man’s face was heavily weathered from years of sun exposure and the salty spray of seawater. The old man’s right eye was hidden behind a tattered cloth bandage.
By Last Irish Viking3 years ago in Fiction
Double Fantasy
Bo’s fight or flight instinct kicked in and he punched the cop square in the face. The oversized paddy let out an ‘Oof’ and his legs crumbled while Bo leaped over the turnstile. Sprinting past bewildered tourists and conditioned locals, Bo rushed deep into the midtown subway station scanning frantically for the red line.
By Kyle Greenwood3 years ago in Fiction
Life Is Stranger Than Fiction: The Unbelievable True Story Of What Happened Next
What if I told you that the truth can be more mind-blowing than the most far-fetched fantasy? From unlikely animal rescues to strange political scandals and everything in between, history is a treasure trove of unbelievable stories that sound too wild to be real—but nevertheless, are 100% true.
By Mohammad Hammash3 years ago in Fiction
Uncovering the Mystery
Introduction The story of the missing treasure has been one of the most fascinating mysteries of recent times. It all began when a wealthy businessman, whose name has been lost to history, disappeared without a trace. The businessman was known to be a shrewd investor, and rumors had it that he had accumulated a considerable fortune over the years. It is believed that before he vanished, he hid a large sum of money somewhere in his mansion, which was his primary residence.
By Keerthana Thirumalairaj3 years ago in Fiction
Anachronism.
In many ways, we remember the history of women in clothes. In the fashions they did and did not choose. The corsets Victorian ladies laced until the boning squeezed their organs until they fell onto velvet fainting couches is how we think of that particular age of oppression. The sparkling flapper dresses and short hair are enigmatic of a newly liberated time. We conjure up and remember images and reenactments of the past, and because women are an unavoidable part of history we think of them too. Typically we imagine them young and rich, in outfits that we design now to reflect the treatment of women then.
By Lucy Richardson3 years ago in Fiction
