Series

CHAPTER 19 (pt 1)
It was a three mile walk back to the farm; Claire left shortly after four in the afternoon, hoping to keep up with the last of the day’s light. I should’ve taken the horse and wagon, that’s what I should’ve done, she told herself, switching hands as the handles of the cloth bag she was carrying cut the circulation off, turning her fingers blue. The knives became heavier as she carried them, but it was never any bother as far as she was concerned. I’d rather be weighed down with the knives, than a dust rag, she told herself. Life for women in this day and age didn’t leave one with a lot of options, she knew, and being a cook in one of the big Manor houses was the best a woman could hope for.
By ben woestenburg4 years ago in Fiction
A Tale Told by Broken Creatures
The snow was gentle on that day. It fell to the ground in lazy spirals, blown about by the remnants of the wind. There had been a tempest last night, but today only a quiet whisper blew through the high peaks of the Tierra Denai.
By Leo Greer4 years ago in Fiction
CUBE: Part Four
It’s funny, what hope can do. It can block out all else until it leaves you blind. I think hope must be like love; an eager falling that drops you into a world warmer and kinder than the one you just left.
By Michelle Tuxford4 years ago in Fiction
Rose Inc.
Entry One. Dear diary, Today started off as a normal day until I got to school. My parents woke my brother and I up. They were headed to the airport and that we needed to get up and get ready for school and they kissed us on the head and then went to the cab. We got ready for school like normal and then we went to the bus stop to wait on the bus. We get to school and just before school let out we were called to the principal's office. It was a few minutes after we got there that we were told that our parents were in a plane crash with very few survivors and that we are their next of kin and that we needed to go to identify their bodies. We were dismissed from the rest of our classes and we were sent home to get ready for our flight. We as soon as we finished packing the cab pulled up and we headed to the airport. We went and got our tickets and then we went to the waiting area and there was a couple that was fighting over seating arrangements. The woman wanted different seats and the man didn't really seem to care about where they sit he looked like he just wanted the conversation to be over. She was just yelling and he was trying to calm her down the best he could. I just put my headphones on in hopes they could resolve it themselves. Soon we are called to get on the plane and that woman is still fussing and yelling. She then stopped at our seats and tried to sit down and the poor flight attendant was trying to get her out of the way. I looked at the woman and said why are u throwing a temper tantrum. She stopped and said that she was not and that she was just claiming her seat that she had paid for. I asked what the difference was all the seats were the same and worked the same. She then got up and acted ashamed and then went to the seat on the ticket. Her husband said thank you and that she wasn't like this all the time. I apologized that I spoke to her in a rude manner but I lacked the patience to be polite. He told me that it wasn't that big of a deal and that she deserved it. He then went to his seat. I reflected on how the situation could have been handled differently and I know I could have been nicer but I didn't have the patience to change the situation nicely. After the plane was finally loaded we took off and we were on our way to the dreaded morgue and hospital. I have a gut feeling that we are going to find that my parents aren't dead. I do want to see what Wales looks like. I am not ready for this though. I am not ready to have to identify my parents as dead or seriously injured. I definitely don't want David to see it. After a while, David asks me how I'm doing and what we are going to do when we get to Wales I tell him that we are going to check into the hotel and then head to the morgue. He told me that it was probably a good idea that I don't eat right after I get off the plane. I agreed and we needed to get stuff done as fast as we can. He seemed very worried and he also looked like he needed his inhaler so I grabbed it and handed it to him. I also asked if he had taken his meds and he finally told me that he was out. I told him that I would get it called in so that we could pick it up after we got off the plane and I told him that I needed to get a new journal. He agreed and that I needed to keep journaling as it would help rather than bottling everything up. I have a horrible habit of bottling up my emotions and then blowing up at the most inconvenient time. It's something that I am trying to work on. I will end this entry for now.
By Elizabeth Grigsby4 years ago in Fiction
CUBE: Part Three
I can see the Earth framed in the centre of the window. You have no idea how . . . miraculous it looks; that tiny, tiny world, hanging in the void. It doesn’t look natural. It hangs in space the same way a hammer doesn’t hang in the air. I press myself to the glass that I don’t think is glass - there’s something metallic about its texture - and long to be there, on the surface once again. My bones ache with it. It’s like being in love with someone you will never have, a drink of water always out of reach.
By Michelle Tuxford4 years ago in Fiction
Stress Test Ch. 10
Tommy Lagocki called Billey his good buddy. Billey wasn't sure what that meant, but he liked it. He liked the way Tommy's green eyes lit up beneath his straight, blond hair when he talked to Billey. The other kids' eyes flashed with a different light when they looked at him.
By Alan Gold4 years ago in Fiction
CUBE: Part One
I was so sure I died. But I wake, my body curled into itself, strands of hair falling over my face. My cheek’s resting on my arm and my arm has an ache in it from lying on a hard surface. These are the things I notice before remembering I’d died.
By Michelle Tuxford4 years ago in Fiction
CUBE: Part Two
At some point I slept. I have the feeling I was asleep for a long time, as if I fell into a deep, dark unconsciousness. But it’s impossible to tell because day and night are meaningless in my little room. The light here is constant, despite the fact I can’t see any fixtures, or switches or bulbs. I think its day two. That feels right.
By Michelle Tuxford4 years ago in Fiction
Radio Silence - Part 11
Richard stopped to watch the flames in the fireplace dance. “I wish I had someone help me get my mistake back in the jar,” he whispered softly, even though there was no one around to hear, except maybe a man with a long beard high above the mess he had made of everything.
By Caitlin McColl4 years ago in Fiction
Boomerang Of Happiness - 3
Next day, Anna was waiting for Alex at the cafeteria to return five kopeks. He at first refused it, but she insisted and said it was a matter of principle for her, as if it was not five kopeks but five hundred rubles. So he reluctantly took the coin and just as reluctantly agreed to sit at lunch with her again. Like the first time, she chatted away all her lunchtime at him, and he pretended to listen.
By Lana V Lynx4 years ago in Fiction
The Eye of the Wyrm
A brisk and cool night with no moon, only the stars up above providing any natural lighting, a hint of chill floated in the air.
By Marc Luce4 years ago in Fiction
Awakening
It was a dry, hot day, like always. Near a mountain range stood a city, its sandstone walls kept out the wasteland, a small bastion of safety; but what drew people to the city wasn't its walls, it was the towering tree that stood nearly eight hundred feet tall in the middle of the sprawling city, like a giant sentinel standing at the edges of the wasteland, the only green for hundreds of miles around. It drew people, like a moth to the flame, they came from all over just to see this miracle.
By Marc Luce4 years ago in Fiction