Mystery
The Box
Sheila had never seen a drone until that winter’s day. Well, she’d seen them on TV and the internet, but never in real life. It had flown down, or hovered, or whatever you call it with a medium-sized brown box hanging from a harness underneath it. She’d watched it all surreptitiously from her front window. It’d been ages since she’d gone outside, maybe months if she was being honest with herself, which she rarely was these days. The pandemic had shut her in more than she’d been able to do by herself in the past three years and gave her the perfect alibi for slowly fading from her friend’s memories and invite lists.
By Vikki Head3 years ago in Fiction
Agoraphobe
The sound was everywhere. There wasn't a room in the house she'd been able to escape from it in. Huddled, now on the floor. She pressed the small of her back against the painted sheetrock of the wall behind her. The sound, the maddening buzzing that was driving her mad felt like it was resonating in every neuron inside her mind. Her thoughts were broken, disjointed. Only the growing sensation of fear came through clear. Her arms stretched around her folded legs. She pressed her forehead against her jeans. The sound was an invading army of alien ships. Her fingers ran through her hair before lacing together behind her head. This isn't happening, she thought desperately.
By The Invisible Writer3 years ago in Fiction
The Black Hole Heart
The night was cold and still. It listened to me as I wearily walked to my front door. My nose was cold. I wanted so badly to be inside away from the snow. December, when everybody should be happy and jolly and smiling while gazing at the lights and the falling snow. I was happy. The happiest I had been for a long time anyway; I wasn't jumping around singing christmas carols but I wasn't in bed covering my face with my covers either. And for me, that's a good day. As I checked my bag for my house keys, I could feel how numb my fingers were becoming. Strange thought I guess, how can you feel numb if 'numb' is a word that describes not feeling anything? Behind me were the regular sounds of the village. A distant passing train, a dog barking in some far off garden, the constant sound of traffic, almost like waves from the sea. I finally feel my keys and put them into the lock so I can be in some kind of warmth after a long day. I wonder why I can't see any stars. The sky is usually so clear here, but tonight it's like someone turned off the stars one by one and replaced them with a dense, grey blanket they had thrown over the sky. That's when I stood on something, something made of cardboard. The snow had accumulated and buried what appeared to be a square cardboard box. I picked it up quickly and finally let myself in.
By HC Valentine3 years ago in Fiction
Where Healing Happens
Shannon Keller is running away. She knows this and readily admits how cowardly it is. But what had happened to her was the last straw. Her soon-to-be ex-fiancée, John Dalton drove her to this as did her father’s refusal to help. He keeps stressing how important it is for her to make John happy in order for the merging of MaxKen and Dalton companies to be successful. Her father arranged for them to meet in the first place in hopes that it would work out in his favor as the CEO of MaxKen. So, he won’t hear of a “petty little argument.”.
By Erika Ravnsborg3 years ago in Fiction
Piece on Earth
I knocked off the snow from my boot. It was just a light layer of white over the pavement and grass. On the former, it began melting and revealing the sidewalk. I then heard multiple drones whirled away in unison. I noticed a whole swarm of drones float into the grayish green sky at dusk. I deduced that my neighbors had been given the same gift.
By Skyler Saunders3 years ago in Fiction
Dear Diary
Dear Diary Tuesday November 22nd Woke up at 7.31. Got up, washed, dressed, and crossed the day off the calendar. Came downstairs and ate breakfast. Went for a walk. When I came back there was a package addressed to me on my doorstep. What a surprise! I took it into the house and opened it. Inside were seven envelopes. On each one was written a day of the week. I put them all neatly on the living room table and opened the envelope labelled ‘Tuesday,’ because that was the day I’d crossed off the calendar. That meant it must be today.
By Steve Moran3 years ago in Fiction
Blessings
Our cabin had a name: Ophelie. Her sister cabins were Angelique, Sidonie, Virginie, Delphine, Véronique and Camille. Ophelie had a fireplace, a Jacuzzi, and a vast uncluttered view of the snow-covered lake and the hills beyond. Out there, cross-country skiing, snowshoeing and skating were to be had. But our pleasures were mostly of the indoor variety: lounging in the hot tub, reading, making love on the soft rug in front of the fire.
By Marie Wilson3 years ago in Fiction
Box of Secrets
Box of Secrets When I looked out of the window it was there. A brown paper package in the porch. I ran down the stairs, opened the door, picked it up and gently shook it. I could feel something moving around inside. So I brought it into the house and carefully placed it on the table in my craft room, where I have the tools to cut it open. It would look out of place in my living room, with its carefully chosen ornaments and décor.
By Steve Moran3 years ago in Fiction
