Humor
The Decorating Detective
We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin where the murders were reported to have taken place. The cabin sat on a spacious twenty acres with a lovely one mile driveway through an overhanging canopy of trees. Plenty of room to hide bodies and far enough from the main road to deter trespassers. It was listed on the historic registry for being the former home of some obscure diplomat in the 1940s. Only a half hour drive from town, it was an off the grid location and considered prime real estate.
By Kincaid Jenkins3 years ago in Fiction
Box?
EL Supervisor was walking at night during "homeless tour" down the popular historic pacific coast 🛣️ highway. When he suddenly heard an angelic sounding ringing as he got closer to a normal looking carton box 📦 in the middle of the road. A flickering street light lit up this mystery normal looking seal carton box with no labels, logos or packaging of any kind to identify who it belong to or what contents it might have inside. Immensely eager and curious to find out what was making the sound. He try to open it with his blunt box cutter knife, 🔪 but to his surprise the box rattle like if it contain a trap 🪤 wild animal. The ringing noise slowly began fading away while icy noctilucent clouds clear out the darken purplelish night sky 🌌 to make room for the gigantic Blood 🩸 moon eclipse happening.
By Jose Elias3 years ago in Fiction
The Naughty List
People love a good elf story. Think: Long-haired and long-legged Legolas gliding across the mountaintops of New Zealand, brandishing his bow to vanquish your foes and then sweeping you off your feet…yeah, I wrote my share of teen fanfiction back in the day.
By Holly Pheni3 years ago in Fiction
Holy Roller
It's not easy to be a Minister in the modern age, though no one believes me. You see, the world wants drama and excitement; they want ex-prisoners, reformed and born again, or glamorous TV evangelists who promise the world in return for a phone donation. Nobody wants to sit with the local Minister and drink weak tea while they arrange for a knitting group at the care home, or help them to cook and clean for old men who can't get about anymore. Certainly no-one wants to cut their toe nails or help them change their sheets, but someone has to do it.
By S. A. Crawford3 years ago in Fiction
American Isekai
An unnatural whirring outside my window stirs me from a deep slumber. I roll out of bed as silently as I can. Reaching beneath the bed, my hand grasps the shotgun I keep for emergencies. My senses are on high alert now. No one is supposed to know I’m here. At least no one who knows who I really am. I came to get away from the world.
By Kevin Barkman3 years ago in Fiction
