Mystery
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I have reached the end of my rope. Noise has been pouring into my apartment all night, extinguishing any goodwill I might’ve had towards my upstairs neighbors. The boom of a disgruntled man’s voice accompanied by the shrill censure of an unhappy woman rattles through the ceiling. The chiptune music of a retro video game jolts my weary bones and I have reached my limit. Had it been the first time this had happened, I would have put my AirPods in and endured a night of fitful sleep. But this is the third night in a row, and the principle of respect has finally outweighed my reluctance to engage in conflict. Also, I have an exam tomorrow.
By Francis Joel DeGrace4 years ago in Fiction
Press of a Button
It was a simple instruction. Wait for the red light, and then press the button. Not complicated. Not difficult – at least, not in principle. It was the rest of the orders that made it harder. Wait for the red light, and then press the button and under no circumstances go in after the team – Scott’s role was to be sure that there was somebody to press the button because, if he weren’t, the rest of the work done by the team might be for naught.
By Chris Cunliffe4 years ago in Fiction
An Imaginary Foe
I awoke with a sense of being watched, of having been tapped on my shoulder. Not again I thought, I tried to center my thoughts and maybe see something in the darkness. I couldn’t remember if I had been dreaming, but I felt like someone/something was or had been in the room. It was still very dark outside, and no sounds at all. It was my 15th birthday, a hard one this would be.
By Claudia Rodriguez4 years ago in Fiction
Bon Voyage
I sat alone in the comfy corner chair. It was plush and soft with a slight recline, plush fabric, and the smell of home. I always loved this chair. I watched my relatives, neighbors, and people I’ve never even met, pile unseemly amounts of food on their plates. I hated being surrounded by my family, but it was surprisingly comforting this time, despite the strangers that staggered through the house on my behalf. My mother sat with her sister on the couch across the room, holding hands in silence. Little ones ran through the living area, not paying much attention to who they ran into or whose feet they got under. This always made me chuckle, how oblivious children could be. I missed being that self-involved. People stood in a circle having conversations on the other end of the room.
By C.L. Deslongchamp 4 years ago in Fiction
An Eternity of Autumns.
I place my hand on the sheet of ice covering the small pond, but my skin can never thaw the silent, dormant layer. Below the frosted pane I can see tiny snails clinging to large pale pebbles, and dark sides of the plastic liner. Bubbles have been caught and suspended in the ice, and would have to wait for higher temperatures before they could be released from their icy prison.
By Deborah Robinson4 years ago in Fiction
Day 1
8/17/21 By Julia Baker It was Day 1 of Daniel's first mission. The United Republic needed him to report at the train station, 7am sharp. Which meant that Daniel should have gotten a good sleep to be refreshed and awake for his mission. As usual, that meant his night was actually spent tossing and turning in his bed, wondering what would happen the next day. Daniel rolled over to look at his alarm clock. He felt for the snooze button and gently pushed it for the numbers to glow. The green light temporarily blinded his eyes after staring blankly into the dark for so long. Quickly, his blue eyes adjusted to the bright green numbers. Two o’clock in the morning. Daniel groaned, rolled back over and pulled the sheets up to his chin. He had already set out his assigned clothing on his office desk, which consisted of a plain white T-shirt, a blue army jacket which was secretly bulletproof and a pair of light washed jeans. He had everything ready to go, down to the white socks in his grey running shoes. His satchel was also packed with a smartphone, wallet full of cash, some basic toiletries, an extra change of clothes, dehydrated food, a water bottle and a 2” knife. Daniel was reluctant to take the knife, thinking it might give himself away as a potential threat to the Insurgents but the United Republic insisted on having it to protect himself. Not that he couldn't protect himself without it.
By Julia Elizabeth 4 years ago in Fiction
THE GHOST OF A BOY
I was standing on the frozen pond, laughing when suddenly I heard a loud crack. As I looked around, I could see the horror etched on my friend’s face. I felt the ice tilt beneath my feet. I found myself sliding and my arms were flailing around as I tried to stop the fall. My friend’s hand reached out for me but I hit the icy water and . . . . . .
By Margaret Flood4 years ago in Fiction
"IT"
Frankie Berry Wise “Tell me a story of long, long ago, Long, long ago. Tell me a story,” the children would beg as they gathered on crisp summer evenings, around old lady Martha, who sat, day after day, in her rocking chair on the front porch. The children’s favorite story is the one she told about the monster “IT’,” that roamed the dark woods, carrying a green light lantern, late at night.
By Frankie Berry Wise4 years ago in Fiction
