Historical
The Great Wall Chronicles
I am a wall, a symbol of strength and determination. I am the Great Wall of China, one of the greatest architectural marvels in human history. I have seen countless generations come and go, watched as empires rose and fell, and stood as a testament to the power and resilience of the human spirit.
By Jan Jansen3 years ago in Fiction
The Walls of the Church
If walls could talk, the tales they could share. I am the wall of a church, a grand and magnificent structure that has stood for centuries in the heart of a bustling city. I have seen countless generations come and go, each leaving their own unique mark on this church and on me.
By Jan Jansen3 years ago in Fiction
Trying to Rebuild
If walls as old as this could talk, they might speak in slightly confused ancient Egyptian or perhaps sneeze at the dusty palm fronds that beckoned outside the entrance to the temple. That is, if they hadn't spent the last fifty years being tramped through by American visitors who flashed pictures on their cameras - and later iPhones. Slow to learn, the walls were used to being admired or ignored, and shivered as they were scratched upon with small metal picks by unsupervised children hieroglyphing their initials into insults or hearts in the odd and shadowed corners: AL + BJ. Haley is a b****.
By Alison McBain3 years ago in Fiction
The Time Traveller
Once upon a time, in a world much like our own, there lived a man named Roger who was a brilliant scientist. He had dedicated his life to studying time travel and finally, after years of hard work and experimentation, he had built a time machine. The machine was a marvel of engineering, and Roger was filled with excitement and a sense of purpose as he began to plan his first journey through time.
By Guru Prasanth3 years ago in Fiction
Pearl harbors past
The more I go back in time the more I feel myself fading away. But they tell me what I have is a gift and I’ll live more in my short years than anyone living a long happy life. No one asked if I wanted “normal” when they found me. They just assumed that leaping is the only thing I’m good for. That’s what we call it. Leaping isn’t a gift. More of a curse. We age faster. Especially if we go back too far. We couple die in another time if we aren’t too careful. There’s only a handful of us. There’s about 2 of us working for the government. The others hide from us. Maybe living their lives in an other time. I would know. I work in New York , under the city. The tunnels they don’t tell you about. I don’t know the half of it. I am only allowed in one part of the tunnel system. Zone Z. We are asked to mostly “glare at the past” which means we don’t leap. We just look. I can see what happened 5 minutes ago in my neighbors apartment if I wanted to. But he’s a middle age man who just got a divorce. Probably not the best idea. But not the point, I was just giving you an example. I’m not the smartest of men. I broadcasted my travels on the internet and they found me faster then you can say “hi, who are you and why are you at my door?” They pretty much promised me a luxurious life of riches and no worry. “Just come work for us” they said. “It will be fun” they said. But little did I know they meant give my single mother that too good to be true of a life and all the riches. And who could say no to that. They mostly ask me to spy on phone calls anyway. They’ve never asked me to leap. And they haven’t asked the other guy either. His name is Paul by the way. We haven’t talked much. He brought me cold coffee once. I just don’t think he wanted to throw away the coffee he got for himself, forgot about and didn’t want to leave the room to throw it away. Our room is a single desk with all white walls. We get a piece of paper and are told to speak what we see after we glare back from the commands on the sheet. No one else is in there with us. So pretty much they are spying on us all the time. This morning I find myself feeling like I’m 30 rather than a 21 year old. I started getting back pain in my last glare. They told me to look back to 1941 on December 7th. If you don’t know that Pearl Harbor. The massacre caused by Japan. Now yea it was awhile ago. But they believe it’s more than that. They think it was set up by a higher official on our side. I only know this because of what I have seen so far. But I can’t see as much as they’d like with glaring. So doing little pieces at a time. I think there’s a piece of information they need for this time. I feel like an investigating cheat. I don’t have to do much investigation to see. All I need is a picture of the person or the place and I just feel the time. It’s like someone who has perfect pitch. They just know how to work a piano. I just know how to work time.
By Kira Viveiros3 years ago in Fiction
Navigating Fate's Waters
Harold chuckled as he watched his friend Jose effortlessly juggle three billiard balls on top of the pool table. He took another sip of whiskey, already feeling the effects of the five shots he’d had earlier. Despite that, he didn’t want to stop now, they were on vacation, and he wanted to live it up. He signaled the bartender, who approached with a smirk on her face. He ordered a draft beer instead, deciding to pace himself for the rest of the night. The bartender swiped his room key before filling a cold mug with beer from the tap.
By Timberly Price3 years ago in Fiction
