Satire
Meet an owl day.
Dear reader, I thank you for joining me on this journey and although I can't promise you over 2000 words full of excitement and wonder which are two things I usually associate with meeting owls and all kinds of animal (my favourite being camel) I can tell you the experience was bumpy and anything but smooth so if this does end up sounding like a rant bare with me it will be more interesting. Now on we go...
By Cameron Ann Morgan4 years ago in Fiction
The Tragedy Owl
“Every time anything notably traumatic happens in my life, a barn owl appears.” If the sentence shocked or disturbed my therapist in any way, he didn’t show it. I don’t know what I expected from him, but after sharing my deepest, most unhinged truth, I wanted . . . something – something other than a diagnosis regurgitated sloppily from the DSM-5.
By Marlowe Faust 4 years ago in Fiction
Now Hiring
Three to five years of work experience in a related field required. The lethal phrase mocks me from the very, very bottom of the webpage. Hastily, I scroll back to the top, wondering if I’d misread the job listing. I hadn’t: Junior Research Assistant, Entry Level, it claims.
By Arsen Ellion Quill4 years ago in Fiction
Hector the Protector
“Hector! Come hither!” bellowed the drawling screech of King Aloysius. Hector jumped at the booming voice of his master, and scuttled through the stone hallways of the King’s Court, tripping over his pointed, belled slippers, landing squarely at the feet of the King. As he stumbled to stand, his hat brushed His Majesty’s nether regions, causing the servant to stutter his apologies.
By Renessa Norton4 years ago in Fiction
The Job
Father didn’t want The Job. He posed in his blue suit across the desk from Mr. Major anyway, counting the ticks of the wall clock. Sweat itched across his scalp and beaded along his hairline. Mr. Major flipped a page in his hand and scowled at Father’s resume.
By Dillon R Morgan4 years ago in Fiction
And Everyone Clapped
I literally live on minimum wage, I’m doing just fine. I don’t get why people think you can’t. I work from 9am to 9pm Sunday through Friday, so that’s 72 hours a week, getting paid $8.25. I make about $600 a week and even saved up enough to visit Disneyland.
By T. J. Ward4 years ago in Fiction






