Series
A Snow Day Means A Play Day
Adrianna drudged through the doors, slowly dragging her feet as if that would prevent the inevitable. She heaved a massive sigh, reluctant to return, but knowing there was no real way to delay it. Dropping her backpack into one of the baskets lining the wall, she plopped down onto the bench of the cafeteria table.
By Jessica C.4 years ago in Fiction
Jack of Diamonds
Dimitri Chernetsov stood on the upper floor of Marlborough Estate sipping a whiskey sour and looking down at the large foyer. Two elaborate sets of staircases wound their way down from the landing he was standing on. There was a massive chandelier hanging from a chain as thick as a man’s arm, suspended twenty feet above the floor. The chandelier was at least two hundred years old and was the first thing he’d wanted to get rid of when he first bought the house. But Bubbi, he remembered, had other ideas. He was glad she’d talked him out of replacing it. There was a large Turkish rug laying on the black and white tiled floor, with two potted urns under each of the winding staircases. It was a nuisance as far as he was concerned. Again, Bubbi had a different opinion, filling the urns with silken flowers crafted by local women.
By ben woestenburg4 years ago in Fiction
Only Me: Creating Content
Even though the money was coming in on a consistent basis it didn’t mean I was rid of the fears and concerns over my living situation. Whether it was for my rent, for my food, or having the equipment I needed to work, I was always worried about getting by and what would happen if I didn’t have everything I needed. For these fears I was in this line of work, despite always saying it was something I would never do.
By Chloe Medeiros4 years ago in Fiction
The Blanket of the Dark. Chapter 02
Peter did not slacken pace till he descended from the uplands and crossed the highway which joined Oxford and Woodstock, a frequented road, for by it the staplers sent their pack-trains to load their wool in the river barges. There was a great green plain on his right hand, grazed upon by a multitude of geese, and already country folk with baskets of market stuff were on their way to the north gate. He turned down a lane by Gloucester Hall, where he looked over a close of pippins to the Rewley fishponds, and passed the little stone quays at Hythe bridge, where men were unloading sweet-smelling packages from a lumpish green boat. In the huts of Fisher Row strange folk, dingy as waterweeds, were getting ready their cobles and fishing-gear against the next fast-day. Peter crossed the main stream at Bookbinders bridge, and came on a broad paved path which ran to what seemed a second city. Walls, towers, pinnacles rose in a dizzier medley than those of Oxford, which he had seen five minutes before beyond the north gate. In especial one tall campanile soared as the stem of a pine soars from a wilderness of bracken, white and gleaming among the soberer tints of roof and buttress.
By Ertugrul Ghazi Urdu4 years ago in Fiction
Chapter 4: This is not a warning
Jacob stared dumbfounded at the half completed citadel gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. On each of the turreted towers, banners snapped in the brisk autumn wind. Guards patrolled the crenelated battlements of the sensational castle, the only hint of a darker purpose to the otherwise romantic looking structure. Faint sounds of construction drifted on the wind to where Jacob had stationed himself on the eastern hill, now dubbed Castle View by the locals.
By Tina Drechny4 years ago in Fiction
Once Upon a Free World
Part 1. It was the early morning of March 3rd, 2157. Sylvia had one thing on her mind and that was having an old-fashioned, held graciously by her hand. She wished she was back in her 20s when liquor was still sold on every corner store, legal to buy since she was 18. Sadly, she has to ask her doctor's permission every time she wants to drink.
By Dovile Miliauskaite4 years ago in Fiction
Renunciation
During the early summer of my life, I thought I might like to try and settle down. I desired a wife who would care for me in my old age and children to carry on my name after I passed away. I pretended that since I knew the ways of the world I could thereby make it a better place by altering my circumstances. I acted in ways expected of me. I acted out of a desire arising from my ego, not out of any sense of the heart. I thought by renouncing my wild ways I could become a good man.
By Dan Glover4 years ago in Fiction
