Love
Crossing Paths
Once upon a time in a faraway kingdom, there lived a princess. She was an average-looking princess with pale green eyes and long brown hair. Nothing special. Special were her two younger sisters Amelia and Penelope. They both had striking red hair and bright blue eyes. So it was a shame to the eldest princess Ophelia that she was to be married. For she was not as beautiful as her younger siblings and besides, she had other things she longed to do.
By Kaytlynn Rose5 years ago in Fiction
Tears Bring Life
TEARS GIVE LIFE Crystal shivered and pulled at the ragged edge of her worn quilt. The ground was just as hard and unforgiving as usual but the air that morning crept in with an unusually uncomfortable chill. The morning breeze had the distinct scent of the promise of rain. Crystal could hear the clanking of the others in the camp hurriedly putting out whatever belongings they had left that were capable of catching some rain water. She groaned quietly under her breath. Her bones hurt. She was only thirty years old but sleeping on the ground for the last few years had taken its toll. She did not relish the thought of moving from the little indention in the earth she had wiggled her way into during the night. She was finally comfortable. Well, as comfortable as she could be in a refugee camp in the middle of nowhere. Crystal and her mother were actually among the fortunate few the other refugees had voted to allow to live in a small cave the group had discovered. She shifted a bit and tugged at her quilt, then decided she’d better get up and put out their few cups and pots or she and her mother would run out of water again. Crystal stretched out her hand to rouse her mother and let her know she was going to set out the dishes. Touching her softly, Crystal whispered, “Momma, it smells like rain. I’m going to set out the cups.” Her mother did not respond… not even with the typical annoyed grunt. Crystal shook her mother’s shoulder gently, “Momma.” Her mother still did not respond. She did not move. “Momma!” Crystal shouted, seizing her mother by the shoulders. She was cold. She was gone. Crystal pulled her mother’s lifeless body toward her and nuzzled her face in the thinning silver hair of her mother’s head. Crystal rocked back and forth clutching her mother close to her and cried for a moment. Looking down she noticed her mother’s hand in its predictably clenched fist. Gently prying her mother’s fingers open she saw for the first time in a very long time her mother’s prize possession. Clutched in her unrelenting little fist it had remained for at least ten years. No one was allowed to touch it, no one was allowed to even see it for fear it might be taken from her or lost. So, there it finally was laying defenseless… without its unremitting protector. The heart-shaped locket.
By Sarah White5 years ago in Fiction
Heart-Shaped Locket
Aarons Point of View. With careful movements, Aaron chips away at the rough cavern wall. After searching for so long, guided by nothing more than a legend, he was finally so close to what he had been searching for. The Locket. Though thought to be a myth, and nothing more than a tale, those who knew of the validity of the legend had searched for years hoping to find the subject of the tall tale. Those in the right circles knew of its power and had been hunting for decades to find it and take its power as their own. As the son of a professor, he had always been ensnared by the story… and his father's quest to find it. Finally here, in this moment, he would have what so many had searched for, what his father had died for. Any minute now, his search would end. He has to remind himself of patience as his hand slips and a rather large piece of rock tumbles to the cavern floor, echoing loudly.
By Deven Ziegenbein5 years ago in Fiction
Hear the City Scream
Phoenix dreaded sleeping. Every night, when his body went still and his mind began to roam, he was transported to a barren field enclosed by a 30 feet tall fence made of electric barbed wire. A middle-aged woman with messy locks of ash-blonde hair was staring at him, frantically mouthing something.
By Nelly Zerbib5 years ago in Fiction
Prompt response:
"I knew you'd like that one." The clapping died off; like the volume of a radio being turned down. "I wasn't sure if you'd noticed that I ..well," I laughed lightly," I was trying to find a genre you preferred. I do want my audience to enjoy my ‘performance’."
By Nikolle Freeman5 years ago in Fiction
MAKE DO AND MEND - A NOVEL
I could say that this is the story of how I died, although that wouldn’t necessarily be true. As with anything in life, and death is no different, there is so much more to this tale than just my death. Although, that is certainly the beginning.
By Samuel Miles McGee5 years ago in Fiction
