Series
The Man
Characters: Milo: Milo is a student at the University of College. He takes school seriously, and rarely steps outside his box. He lives alone in a four-person apartment, and only uses one bedroom and the kitchen. The living room is bland and lacking furniture. The other three bedrooms have the doors wide open and nothing but dust behind them. He had three roommates, for three years. They were friends. They all left and moved into a three-person apartment without him. They were friends. Milo is alone.
By Jaden Patterson4 years ago in Fiction
Improper Mage - Ch 2
A long line of carriages waited along the drive to Sancta Vallis Castle, named for the capital city it resided in, stood imposingly at the point of the valley their city was protected by. Constructed of grey stone and pointed spires atop each of the many towers, the castle had been created from the image of power. Grand and sturdy, the castle stood for many centuries as a symbol of solidarity among the races of Triaedian.
By Taylor Westwood4 years ago in Fiction
Brown Paper Box
Boston Massachusetts, 2022 Zachary is sitting in the driveway inside of his idling, government issued, green Ford Fusion sedan smoking a cigarette and listening to the Dave and Chuck the Freak morning show. Satisfied with their discussion on asshole of the day, a crude discussion about another billionaire calling himself an astronaut after making a quick fifteen minute visit into space, he kills the radio as well as the car. Removing the dangling keys from the ignition, he pulls down the sun visor and removes a laminated memorial prayer card clipped to the mirror flap. As he stares hard at the old face on the card, he reaches down into a secret compartment beneath his seat and pulls out a silver flask with a faded Marine Corp sticker on the front. He unscrews the tin cap and takes a long gulp. With a heavy sigh he twists the cap back onto the flask, returns it to its hiding place then stares hard at himself through the mirror of the sun visor. Slamming the visor shut he reaches into his pants right pocket, removes a pack of evergreen chewing gum and pops two pieces inside of his dry mouth. Chewing vigorously, he gathers his cellphone from the magnetic dashboard dock, stuffs the prayer card into the breast pocket of his blue button-down dress shirt and exits the vehicle.
By Kale Sinclair4 years ago in Fiction
His
The dreams are vivid. There I am. Walking…. no... running. Why is he chasing me? The ground is wet. Where are my shoes? Ouch, the twigs are sharp. I’m in the woods? Help! Help! Why can’t I scream? My voice! It’s gone. Still running. It smells like fresh rain in these woods. I’ve never been here. There! Behind that tree. I crouch. I am trying to catch my breath; but trying to be quiet. I still hear his footsteps. He slowed down. I close my eyes but then realize I need to see where he is. I peek my head around the corner; not there. I look up, not there. I see a little dent for me to climb in the tree; should I do it? Yes! Nakeya save your life and climb this tree! This tree is old, the bark smells like pine but it isn’t a pine tree. I climb silently up the tree, thank God there are a lot of branches and leaves. I think I’m safe. I can see him now. He looks familiar. Wait….it can’t be…. he’s dead! I saw him die. I try to talk, still no voice. Got dammit! Why can’t I speak! This isn’t happening. Someone wake me up. SOMEONE HELP!
By Nakeya Skinner4 years ago in Fiction
Improper Mage
Liana Monroe sat upon a wooden stool in front of a sunny window in her sister’s room reading a thick and heavy tome. Leather bindings frayed at the edges which were older than any relative she recalled having owned this book. The pages were worn from use, but the words were no less easy to read because of it.
By Taylor Westwood4 years ago in Fiction
Cordelia And The Magical, Mysterious, Links
It was a Saturday in September when I woke up to see the oddest of things, a tiny little fairy, was floating over my head. I laid there, frozen, from the shock of seeing Tinkerbell floating above me. This couldn't be real, I thought to myself, as the tiny little lady hovered around, looking down on me as she descended to landing on my chest. I honestly thought I was losing my mind. How could something like this be real?
By Jason Ray Morton 4 years ago in Fiction
What Did Jashawn Kazo Do for his Mom?
“He was just rationally selfish,” Detective Kalina Crews explained. “He looked out for all his values,” she told the Daily Delaware when they asked about Jashawn Kazo. In the hours between 11 p.m. and 2 a.m. the high school graduate who excelled on his basketball team was struck down by over seventy rounds.
By Skyler Saunders4 years ago in Fiction
Bulls & Bullies
Two photos rested on the kitchen table –the small plastic Polaroid being held by the large metal frame below it. She had put the frame in my hands after sharing her theory with me, but its weight quickly tumbled from my grip. She caught it, before it could fall, and discarded it onto the table’s surface to hold my hands in hers. Her eyes, older than mine, held my gaze as he reached out a hand to place on my shoulder. In the past, the touch of any many could cause me to crumble and retreat, but I felt an unfamiliar form of safety from his touch. I took in a deep breath, and was finally able to sigh it back out with a steady chest.
By Maeple Fourest4 years ago in Fiction
The Chronicles of Verspania pt.4
The next morning, Iris visited Time to return one of her books she had borrowed. It was called The Flight of The Purple Doves and it was about a group of rebels who overthrow a tyrant in a magical world. It wasn’t the type of book Iris usually enjoyed but it was Time’s favourite so Iris finally gave in and read it. Through the meadow and past the blackberry thickets, Iris made her way to the cottage. She pushed open the garden gate and knocked twice on the unlocked door to announce herself. Unlike normal, she couldn’t hear Time busy in the kitchen or fiddling around with her clocks. The cottage was ghostly quiet and Time was nowhere to be seen. Iris heard a quiet sobbing coming from Time’s bedroom. It was a small room, which was painted a periwinkle blue and was covered in bookshelves and it had a small wardrobe and desk in the left hand corner. The desk chair was facing the bed and Time was curled up in a small ball on it. She had tears streaming down her face and her sleeves were soggy from wiping her tears away. Iris dropped the book and ran over to her. Time didn’t acknowledge Iris’ arrival until she sat on the bed opposite her. She pulled her close and held her in her arms like a small child. Helpless with nowhere to go to. Time let herself be held in Iris’ arms. It felt odd as Iris was so much younger yet so mature. When Iris asked what was wrong, Time slowly pointed to a crumpled photograph on the bedside table.
By Bel Mellor4 years ago in Fiction
The Box
Lexi sighed as she stared at herself in the full length mirror. Her hair was wrapped in a flowery turban, matching dress with long, flowing skirt and sleeves, and a cincher nearly cutting off circulation at her waist. This is what her next client expected, along with the crystal ball already sitting on a table downstairs. “Stefan, are you here?”
By Jay Villin4 years ago in Fiction
How I Spent my Summer Holiday
Grandma sat silently, holding her coffee cup in one hand, and drumming her fingers on the table with the other. Isabelle and I stared at her, not daring to move, wondering what was going to happen next. I was just about to say I was sorry I opened the parcel when she stood up.
By Gail Wylie4 years ago in Fiction
