Love

The Tiger at a Table For Two
By the 1st of October, the village of Stoke Fleming was a ghost town. The stage was set for summer but instead, a gloom inhabited it. Even when the tourists clear out the smallest pockets of summer remain and it is a certain kind of soul that goes to see them decay.
By Caroline4 years ago in Fiction
The Tyrant's Sorrow
“Sound the alarms! The Prince is gone!” An Emperor's guardsman hollers out. Hearing the cry, another guard swiftly reaches up to pull on the thick rope suspended above, ringing a large bell that echoes across the kingdom. Sixty guards astride sixty majestic vlaamperd horses charge out of the castle’s front gates, to look for the prince.
By Cara Jean Andersen4 years ago in Fiction
Turned for Love
Katie is sitting in her home office when she hears something outside. It sounded like a woman screaming. She gets up and looks out the window. It’s completely dark outside all except for the glow coming off of the moon and stars, but it’s not enough to really see anything in the distance, but there is nothing close up to the house. She decides it must be all in her imagination and heads upstairs to go to bed.
By Ireland Lorelei 4 years ago in Fiction
Eve of the Harvest
My family owns a sizable pear orchard—the main source of jobs in our little town. Although I stand to inherit the farm in the future, I have not been home often or long enough to learn the ropes. I have chosen to pursue a law degree, so I spend most of my time in a prestigious university in the East Coast. I would normally be in the library or in the law office at this time of the year, but this summer is different. My mother suddenly passed away a couple of months ago; succumbing to a disease I was unaware she had. And though the traditional mourning period has elapsed, I decided to take a leave of absence from the academe and my internship. I needed to come to terms with the loss of the most important woman in my life.
By Y Owens4 years ago in Fiction
Another Way
Our story begins, as so many do, with a bubbling conflict beginning to brew. The signs are there, it’s plain to see, the readers know it and so do we. But those whose lives reside within the words we write, the tales we spin, are all too often unaware of just what we have in store.
By Bree Beadman4 years ago in Fiction
The Living Must Live
The living must live, life does go on. At the time, it was nearing Halloween. Plans were being set, with no expense spared from LJ’s grandparents. They had always been generous for their children's holidays and special events. Gary was going all out to haunt his man cave, while Helen decorated cookies and filled goody bags for the kids. A pot of stew, cheddar biscuits, and apple pie would be offered to their guests. A few of LJ’s classmates would be coming, with longtime family friends joining the fun. LJ would become a robot this year; his grandmother was a creative genius as far as he was concerned. He marveled at each new component his AI guy would receive, “How do you do it, Gramma? It’s the best costume ever!”.
By T. A. White4 years ago in Fiction
Enough
She stood there looking in the mirror, watching a single tear slide down her cheek slowly, feeling the warmth on her soft skin and the stinging in her eye. Her chocolate brown hair was perfect, not a single curl out of place. She’d spent hours getting her hair just right, making sure that her makeup was flawless, and choosing a dress that loved every inch of her body. Tonight, was supposed to be special, supposed to be perfect, what could possibly go wrong?
By Carly De Anda4 years ago in Fiction
The beginning of something new.
I've been coming to the park every day for a month. Hi. My name is Jack. I am not a writer, I am an artist. But I felt the need to chronicle this adventure. I will try to stick to the point, but it's so exciting I tend to get flustered.
By J. Langer4 years ago in Fiction
The Woman of my Dreams
Jim’s throat was dry and he had a strong desire to cough as he sat at the bar of the smoky tavern. He was not one to spend a lot of time in taverns or bars, but he had just moved into town, his car was still on the trailer behind the moving van and he needed something to eat and drink. This tavern was the closest place, about a mile from his new home, the next place was five miles further down the road.
By B. K. Garner4 years ago in Fiction
First Christmas in Dustwater
Sabrina stood on the sagging back porch of the old bar and grill, surveying the scene with sullen eyes. She didn’t care how pretty her mother thought the snow-tipped mountains were, dotted with their evergreens. She didn’t care that her father loved the bare branches that scratched at the late afternoon sky and whose leaves had fallen and crisped on the cold December ground. She only cared that she was stuck in dustbowl Virginia for Christmas and wanted to go home—back to the city, back to her friends, back to real Christmas.
By Karen Sullivan 4 years ago in Fiction
Meet Me Under The Pear Tree
It was late afternoon the weather had been warming up. Leila was preparing her evening meal. Tomorrow will be the first day of summer. It’s time to pick the remainder of Springs fruits and vegetables, she thought. Then finish planting what’s needed for the Summer season. The orchard has supplied a bumper crop with all the winter rains that fell. As did the vegetables and other edible plants growing across the twenty-five garden beds. Plus the fact that Leila returned to the farm two years before her parent’s passed away in a tragic accident. She had turned the farm around from bankruptcy to producing high-quality foods that sell well. They would have been so pleased with her.
By Graeme Waddell4 years ago in Fiction
Love me love me say that you love me
Love is painful, love is exhilarating, love is happiness, confusion and sadness. Love is a mosaic kaleidoscope of colors that symbolize all emotions.
By James Eli4 years ago in Fiction