Sci Fi
The Crystal Walls
Neetra turned to the four farns and without the need for spoken words it passed between them that it was time. Flashthunder and the others stepped timidly to the sidelines. Much about Neetra had already won their awe and admiration, but to know she was able to address on equal footing the likes of Manual, Benmor, Prune and Albazorascabaranthi was something else again, and it made the Mini-Flashes downright shy of their new friend. All of a hush they looked on, as Neetra stepped to the centre of the cathedral floor and the farns formed a wide ring around her.
By Doc Sherwood5 years ago in Fiction
Grandmas Old Red Barn
There are things we remember and there are things our brains try to protect us from. Growing up, I loved spending time at my grandmother’s farm. Being a city kid myself, summers were glorious mostly because I spent it outside, in nature. My friends and I would play in an around my grandmas’ red barn, hiding amidst the horses and sheep. My grandma had a working farm with sheep, goats, chickens, horses, and cows. They were all my friends. We would often bathe in the stream. Jumping in the cold water was a shock at first, but your body adjusts. Our bodies always adjust. Maybe I blocked it out. Maybe my mind wanted to protect me. Whatever the case may be, that veil of so-called protection, is gone. I remember now. I remember everything.
By Roberta DeAndrade5 years ago in Fiction
Far from Home
The Evergreen was once a living meadow, a sanctuary for small flying insects and tiny birds who nested peacefully in the tall grass. Food was plentiful and the sunlight always seemed to shine a little brighter overhead, bringing a warm glow to the thousands of wildflowers that swayed in an almost permanent summer breeze.
By Cassie Mason5 years ago in Fiction
Beacon
It’s the third day I’ve spent in the barn, waiting on my batteries to recharge, and the fourth since I ran away. The solar cell I found and rigged up isn’t efficient, especially in these short, February days. The axe head I’ve been using to dig in the ice is near the broken door, and the bull hasn’t come in for the night yet.
By Sjan Evardsson5 years ago in Fiction
Pistris Legion
Perfection, something that will always be strived for, but never achieved. That is the premise of life in many ways. Evolution is all about adapting to life, reaching ever closer to perfection until change must happen again. Not so with sharks. They have remained stable for millions of years. That is why they make up the legion.
By Patrick Marrero5 years ago in Fiction
Unto the Breach, Chapter Three
Hangonel too broke into a sprint. Two pairs of bare feet pounded the plain, throwing up twin crimson dust-bowls steadily closing to collide as the counterparts made ready to settle through combat the tie-breaker over which of them was wearing the least. Bendigo discovered the proper parlance was something you could fall back into as if you’d never been away, for without so much as a hesitation he hollered out as he hurtled: “Then learn, impetuous Hangonel Mangonel, that it was none other than my venerable father who first sought to set down the Prophecy you speak of! So perhaps it is indeed meet we are thus enjoined on this battlefield, for only the benign spirits and ancient gods might have ordained a reckoning between two such!”
By Doc Sherwood5 years ago in Fiction
Incoming, Chapter Three
All night long the Henry Martin spearheaded Planet Earth’s advance, blazing a trail for helicopters and fighter-jets as together they poured their payloads down upon the twisted tendrils burrowing into Nottingham’s heart. Now with ammunition finally exhausted the great galleon had tacked back from the City Centre to let fresher vessels finish the fight, and was sailing daylight skies at the war-zone’s outskirts in search of survivors to airlift to safety.
By Doc Sherwood5 years ago in Fiction
