Love
Take Flight
It should come as no surprise that this is how you chose to return. After all, you were always most alive as the surrounding world slumbered. The moon was your spotlight as it is now, casting a halo about your head. I could hear you then, singing when you thought not a soul would hear. I can hear you now, and I follow the sound as I climb out of the window to dance in the moonlight you once claimed as your own. I’ve been fooled to think I can follow your footsteps, but not a print is left from the life you once lived so loudly.
By Crysta Tim4 years ago in Fiction
The Fine Line of Coincidences
She never named it, but it was always there when she needed it. To name it would mean to rely on it, and she wasn't about to start relying on coincidences now. It hadn't gotten her very far the first time around, and she'd learned her lesson.
By Jesse Bixby4 years ago in Fiction
Messages From Heaven
Driving along the quiet country road , crying and feeling completely helpless and hopeless the words that spilled out of Lilly's mouth were of a woman who was at her wits end. You see, 2010 was a year with many endings and considerable hardship for this mature mother of 3.
By Kym Stewart4 years ago in Fiction
The Old Man from Over the Sea
Valeria shuddered under the coarse linen blanket, clutching it up to her chin with tight white knuckled fists as lightening glistened bright in the dark night sky and thunder drummed through the earth. The wind restlessly moaned, throwing rain across the flimsy window shutters sounding like fingertips peppering melodies of anxious clatter over the wood—ready to break in at any time. Normally Valeria could handle the storms, she’d grown up on the seafront, fished with her father and bathed in the ocean which ran blue through her blood. But when the tides and sky shook and rocked with the fierce iron grasp of God’s fury, it terrified her down to the marrow in her bones.
By Victoria Bezzeg4 years ago in Fiction
Fated by an Owl
Of course I’m stuck here with him. Of all the people at this stupid wedding, it’s him. Rain pounds on the tin roof above, echoing through the dark expanse of the barn. Faint illumination from the string lights outside filter in through the dusty single-pane windows, leaving most of the barn clad in deep shadows of blue and grey.
By Lindsay Rae4 years ago in Fiction
The Enchanted Owl
The owl always came at night, when the moon filled the endlessness that floated in on the breeze and rippled through the tall trees. Its feathers nearly completely white except for the streaks of amber brown, it perched on the branch closest to her bedroom window and shrieked its eerie call, beckoning her from the solitude of her bed. Thus each night, Luna rose and walked on bare feet to the open window to search the barn owl’s piercing golden eyes, as if therein lay some deep-seated and powerful omen that would bring her fulfillment of desires for which she did yearn.
By Cindy Calder4 years ago in Fiction
The Night Owl Returns
It was already dark when we finished carrying up the last boxes up the stairs. We set up a picnic on a makeshift table of two chairs and a tablecloth, popped a cork and toasted to the new home. Getting this place seemed miraculous for two artists, especially at the onset of the pandemic. We could finally have a place to compose and play music at all hours, paint, write, dance ..and have fabulous dinner parties with the Bohemian royalty when this is all over.
By Allison Lovejoy4 years ago in Fiction
Someday We May Smile
The air probably smells of something. I wouldn’t know, my nose is always clogged. A few years of flirting with drug use and taking the scent of things like rain for granted will do that to you. At this point, I’d settle for sewage. They say the olfactory is the most powerful of the senses as linked to memories. Maybe that’s why every experience from the last few years has faded to blackness, like a movie screen before credits I won’t be mentioned in. For all my talk of feeling very little and remembering even less, you cross my mind more than I’d ever admit. Especially on nights I spend in places where you linger. I still hear your voice echoing along the water. All you said to do was slow down.
By Noah Khorey4 years ago in Fiction
It Is What It Is
Once upon a time, there was a kingdom founded by a poor king and queen. King Alex and Queen Regina were a fair and just couple and ruled with a gentle hand. Born unto them were three children. The oldest Armand was a strapping young man who at young age declined the throne, choosing instead to become the steward until an heir could be found. The second was Helena, a wild woman with no interest in the throne who decided instead to start her own kingdom nearby. The Youngest was Heather, and though she wanted to rule, she had no desire to do so as queen, instead wanting to control from behind the scenes.
By Jane Northwood4 years ago in Fiction
