Historical
Francois And The Ship Of Dreams.
Hello, my name is Francois DuPont. I am a 10 year old French boy from Bordeaux, France. My mother’s name is Marseille and my father’s name is Jacques. For the past three years my family has been living in Southampton, England where my mother works as a maid and my father has found work as a painter. Because my dad is such a good painter, he has been hired by a family called the Astors to come to the city of New York in America and paint nice pictures for a lot of money. He’s been in New York now for a month and has now been hired for a permanent job there. Now that my daddy has made a lot of money, he has bought boat tickets for me and my mom to come stay with him in America for good. He got us tickets to ride on a big nice boat called the Titanic. My mommy said I would love the Titanic because everyone says it is the ship of dreams and it is the biggest boat in the world.
By Joe Patterson4 years ago in Fiction
The Ship of Dreams and Screams
April 12, 2022 The fire used to burn brightly during the dark nights when my grandma would sit me down on her knee and tell me stories. It would crackle and pop during all her silent moments, and the hairs on my arms would stand on end. Sometimes near the end of her stories, her voice would get quiet, a shadow would appear in the window, and then a cold breeze would flow through the room. Even the hairs on the back of my neck rose; I would get goose bumps and chills as sweat started dripping down my back. It was always at this moment that the swashbuckling hero made his escape. He would dive into the icy Atlantic, sinking, drowning, gasping for breath, and occasionally swimming. My heart would start pounding a mile a minute, as I saw an old steel ship approaching the hero. The warm steel hull of the ship, creating steam where it made contact with the Artic waters, broke waves like a tornado broke houses: sending pieces flying everywhere. The hero would call out, only to be thrown under by these mighty waves. The ship passed...
By Colleen Sincavage4 years ago in Fiction
Lilli
It occurred to me that the world was much, much larger than I presumed. A Lilliputian in a world so vast, so advanced... it was no match for a creature of my size. I became visibly overwhelmed. Why did I leave the comforts of my derisory old barn, and the loving embraces of Mr. Rib and Betty the Bull? Who was I to think I could wander this extraordinary land alone, in search for a better me, in hopes for another family? I began to panic, and my vision blurred. Everything went black.
By Kendra J. Anthony4 years ago in Fiction
The Engineer
Joseph Laroche had always loved math, and he was always good at it. He was patient and steady and didn’t give up easily on solving a problem. He was a quiet and studious boy. Growing up in Haiti, his mother told him from the time he was young that he was going to study hard and get a good education, and when he was old enough, he would go abroad and study in France. Joseph’s uncle, Cincinnatus Leconte, was the president of Haiti, so Joseph’s parents had always held him to a high standard, and reminded him that he would always have to carry himself in a way that represented his family well. Joseph’s parents sent him abroad to study in France when he was 15 years old. They wanted him to get the best education possible and thought he would be more successful in France than in Haiti, so off he went at 15, leaving his home and family behind.
By Maria Wallisch4 years ago in Fiction
Passing in the Night
The gangplank was Emily’s entrance into the world of the steamship. A world she would be a part of for nine days until she disembarked in England. The steward beckoned her to come up, while her parents stood behind him looking back at her with a look of exasperation. She stood for another minute then took her first step. She didn’t want to disappoint her parents, but she had recently met Steven, a handsome clerk who worked for her father. His shaggy blondish hair made her want to run her fingers through it. He was like a piece of forbidden fruit that she wasn’t sure she wanted.
By Sandra L Rutherford4 years ago in Fiction
Mission QTXZ19413
Mission Log: Period of Seth the 73rd, 2629 Translated from Birdish to English April 17, 2022 The planet Ears- known to its inhabitants as Earth- has revolved around its star over nineteen hundred times since its dominant species began their count. In that time they have advanced slower than any other race we have encountered. Major innovations have emerged short of expectation for reasons unknown to the office of alien affairs. Spacebird society had developed significantly more complex technology at this point in our existence. My mission is to figure out what is holding them back and try to put a stop to it, ensuring a smooth transition to future intergalactic relations. This new creation by the Earlings seems to surpass anything that they have been able to conjure up so far. Perhaps this is a step in the right direction. The following is my account of Mission QTXZ19413- Progress Study of the RMS Titanic.
By Brian Rosen4 years ago in Fiction
The Weight of Surviving
April 15th 1992 Thought number one: Thank you, Lord, for another day. Thought number two: Why did you save me? At ninety-four years old, James still woke up every morning to these two thoughts. He had lived a good life, tried to be worthy of being saved, yet the question remained.
By R.S. Sillanpaa4 years ago in Fiction
A Dream of Revenge
I reach down into my satchel and pull out a book. The first page reads “Property of Long River”. Following that, in the next few pages of said book, is my list of names. Looking down the list, almost every one of them is crossed out. I scrawled them out viciously as and when their relevance to me dissipated. On the second to last page, there is only a single name not crossed out. It reads ‘William Percival Clyde’ and underneath reads ‘Headmaster of the residential school’. I’ve collected various notes about this person I am hunting over the years. I’ve filled the pages with anything I found relevant or useful, but my last quarry eludes me and notes that no longer proved useful I scribbled out. The last readable note being my current lead: ‘friends with the mayor of London?’
By Tyler C Douglas4 years ago in Fiction
The Journal of Hamilton Murphy
It’s been two years since he promised his grandfather, on his death bed, that he would find them no matter how long it took. His grandfather had searched for eight years before he died, trying to fulfill the promise he made that night.
By Gerald Holmes4 years ago in Fiction
