Mystery
The Hopeless Owl
The sun rises over the forest village, and the enormous trees allow light rays to flow through their leaves, painting the forest floor in dappled shadows. Lilith, an eighteen-year-old with a gentle voice and light brown hair, grew up in a little forest town named Vihnlox with her father and other ordinary villagers until she met Deon, and everything changed ever since.
By Hasti Shams 4 years ago in Fiction
Psychosis of Style
Abe opened his eyes in response to a vibration that tickled his auriculotemporal nerve. He saw an image of the daylight sun, breaking through patches of clouds. Behind them, a blue-sky hinted feelings of warmth that resonated within him. Abe furrowed his brows as he struggled to remember the last time he saw the serene blue sky. In his reminiscence a moment of bliss emerged, he felt numb and weightless as if he were in flight. As the seconds drew past, an abrupt chill of cold steel pressed upon his back. Abe blinked twice upon realization that the source of light came from a dental operatory light above and the clouded sky was merely blue smoke that appeared to emanate from the sides of his head. Alarmed, Abe did what any person would have done, he panicked. A wave of adrenaline washed over him that began at his toes and ended at the top of his head. He tried to thrash his arms and legs, but the result was the same, Abe was trapped. A shadow shrouded him as the light was eclipsed by a silhouette that hovered over from his right.
By Derrick L.4 years ago in Fiction
A New Perspective
Nights like this, I wonder why people ever decided to sleep while the sun is down. There is a full moon, and it reflects the silhouettes of trees and rocks. Freshly fallen snow glitters like stars. It is a lovely distraction from the thoughts that keep me awake at night. My heartbeat is synchronized with the rhythmic sound of crunching snow beneath the horse’s hooves. It looks like light ahead, but I have lived in these woods long enough to know better. It is a clearing. A plain of snow reflects the moonlight, making it glow against the contrast of the dark, thick woods. The trees begin to thin, and ahead I see movement. Rabbits. They are leaping about. It looks like a coven of witches dancing around a fire. Their friskiness is an effect of the full moon. A flash of memory springs to the surface of my mind. It is my sisters and I dancing. I cling to the memory trying to bring more to the surface, but the vision shatters and I forget once again.
By Kayla Holyoak Avondet4 years ago in Fiction
My Grandfathers Owl
I’ve never been known for being an animal lover. I’ve always been used to just being by myself and nothing more. Yes, I had my friends and family, I talked to them, visited them every once in a while, but I lived alone. I had just moved into a country house located near the east of England. It had a large piece of land, and it ironically came with a barn. I had this house passed down to me from my grandfather, he passed away a year ago. I never knew much about him though, mostly because he always kept to himself. Especially after my grandmother passed away. He didn’t like talking to us as much like he did when my grandmother was still around. We visited him about once or twice a year when he was still around. I never knew why, but my guess was just that he always lived far from where we were. And I never knew much about him. That’s was until I moved into his house. It was pretty dirty at first, but eventually I cleaned and tidied everything up and it looked much better.
By Isabel Miranda4 years ago in Fiction
The Night Owl Express
Isabella stepped out from the overcrowded studio apartment and into the dim lit hallway leading to the stairwell. She could feel the chill of the Northern air fighting its way through the grimy interior walls of the building. As she walked, she dialed the number of a taxi service she found on a business card. Heavy and well-crafted, the card stood out to her for some reason other than its quality. She read the name out loud, just barely above a whisper, as she pushed the cumbersome door leading to the outside.
By Daniel Maulvain4 years ago in Fiction
Death under the Owl Branch
The large stuffed barn owl sat fixed against the severed tree branch, which hung over the fireplace. Three iron nails secured the decorative piece over the stone hearth for forty years. The owl’s massive wings stretched out on either side, almost concealing the entire branch. Deep brown and white speckled feathers fanned out, frozen in mid-flight. Large talons reaching out to grasp an invisible prey. Little had changed over the years, not a flick of a feather or twinge of a limb. The owl remained caught forever in a moment of determination, while its prey vanished out of sight and into the unknown.
By Patricia Corn4 years ago in Fiction
The End of a Curse
Cruising down the street I have attracted the attention of the onlookers, one by one they would swing their heads around to catch a glimpse of my form as I hasten past them, bouquet in hand, to an appointed restaurant. The burgundy Valentino Couture jacket contrasting with my white roses presented the image of an illustrious man, the dream of numerous women. But alas, for tonight at least, my eyes were available only for the woman waiting in the fine dining establishment.
By Nichita Mitrea4 years ago in Fiction
One Night in the Woods
The only sound in the forest besides the pounding of Artemis’ feet through the underbrush was the pounding of her heart in her chest. The light of the moon was her only companion as she hurdled overgrown bushes and dodged unruly branches and tried to keep her panting breaths quiet. Her feet had gone numb some time ago but she couldn’t afford to stop now. To stop would be to allow herself to be caught, and to be caught was to die.
By Maggie Kaplan4 years ago in Fiction
