Young Adult
Byron the Baby Blue Bison Goes Missing
The Heroes of This Galaxy were facing their toughest challenge yet. Lady Shadow Del Mar the breakdancing vegan dog was in the middle of a performance with Raiden the rowdy red ram when a brilliant blind bat flew into Raiden who then bounced into Lady Shadow. They all fell off the stage, knocking down the main support which in turn crushed the sound equipment, which then sparked an explosion that made all of the lights go out. It took a few minutes, but eventually the emergency generator kicked on and there were lights again. Only there was a huge problem. Byron the baby blue bison was missing and they suspected that this incident was set up by the poachers that had been spotted in the area, the real reason they were in this part of the galaxy. They were on a mission to catch those pesky poachers, and now those poachers had taken Byron. Baby blue bison skin was worth a lot in this galaxy and many others, and bison were facing extinction due to the illegal trade. One of their own was in danger now; The Heroes of This Galaxy had to act fast.
By Priestess Ganesa3 years ago in Fiction
The Paradox of Progress
In the year 2059, the world was unrecognizable from what it had been in 2023. The cities were cleaner, sleeker, and more advanced than anyone from the past could have imagined. But the price of this progress was steep: the world had become a cold, detached place where human interaction was often replaced by technology.
By Dinesh Ram3 years ago in Fiction
The Stall On Wall Street
If walls could talk I'd tell you my insides were black. The emotion of emotionless movement penetrates my porcelain silver scratched walls as countless beings use me seeking privacy in my space. I'm tired of the inconsistent smells and disrespectful energy but of course I'm rooted in the most ruthless cities and busiest streets famously mistaken as wolf not wall street. I'm the most public private four walls you could ever endure, being a bathroom stall trapped in my four walls on wall street for fifty years has taken a toll on me. Those covid days that recently ended were some of the best times of my life. Silent empty sounds of sunlight. It was peaceful. I feel traumatized now seeing how life could be. If walls could talk, I'd talk to these beings in a monotone deep white collared voice to knock some sense into their heads. It was a rough time for the beings, when some did come into my stall they were sick, almost blue, coughing, scratching their throats, mucus flying on my walls not even courtesy enough to wipe it off. This one particular man has been coming into my stall sense I can remember, he was tall with a posture of a fucked up massaged from the five dollar thirty minute asian parlors in Chinatown. He was pale and green in the face with eyes of a puppy who is scheming on getting a piece of bacon off your plate in the morning. He had purple bags under his eyes and hair so thin I didn't see why he just didn't do a clean bald shave. He sat in my stall and just cried. But before Covid he wasn't like that. His posture was confident, his smile was big walking into my stall, no matter the fumes plunging from the next. He would call his wife and they would just ask about each other's day, at the end of their call he would say “tell me?” And then she would say “I love you too” and hang up every night around eleven pm. After Covid he was like an apple getting eaten inside out by a worm he created his very own self. Before Covid he was living his life carelessly and at my bar drinking and doing drugs in my stall, each side of his lips was stretched to his ears he was smiling so hard. Yesterday his wife for the first time came to my stall, and I knew it was his wife because before she knelt down he said to her “tell me?” and she replied “I love you” and continued doing her routine. Sadly she wasn't the first woman who came into the stall with my old guy. One of the mystery ladies I've seen before knocked around 11pm and replied “Dulce mi papi open the door”. And unfortunately I'm an old stall who rarely gets maintenance so there's easy tricks to open my door. She without hesitation opens the door and screams and at that moment Dulce wasn't the only one who knew he had more loves than one. Using my four walls with them. Things got erratic yelling, screaming, hanging swinging fists and elbows while tears falling and suddenly a big sound of a dead weight elephant hit the floor and Dulce was there in a pool of snot and tears glaring at the two and said two words, “Tell me”. And the mystery lady looked confused and the wife did not look amused. Snot and tears poured out his face like a faucet as he turned blue, he yelled “TELL ME!" Hitting his fist on the floor. His wife looked at him blankly and ran out the door. Mystery lady gave him sass. Threw some condoms and said “That's that”. Dulce sat on the toilet crying yelling “WHY ME”! Calling his wife repeatedly. He threw his phone at my wall and kneeled to the floor once again yelling “TELL ME”! And I responded, “He who asks, what shouldn't be taken will never find reality until honest with himself”.
By Khonsu Books3 years ago in Fiction
Her Bedroom Wall
If walls could talk, I would have shared in your parents' joy and excitement as they prepared your nursery. They spent hours just sitting on the floor of the empty room daydreaming about the possibilities. A beige carpet was laid down and I was painted lavender. The anticipation was great fun, but it was nothing compared to the joy of seeing your family together for the first time. I'm just a wall, but I shared in the feeling of responsibility that came over the house as it was cleaned, child-proofed and decorated for your arrival. I listened and I learned every one of your mother's lullabies. If walls could talk, I would have sang you a lullaby of my own about how I would protect you from the elements, from noise, from harm, and how happy I was with my duty.
By Rebekah Conard3 years ago in Fiction
The Haunting of Willow Creek School
There was a small, old school in the countryside that had been around for many decades. The school had a reputation for being haunted, and many of the local children whispered that the ghost of a former teacher still roamed the halls. The students and staff had never seen the ghost, but strange things often happened in the school, such as doors slamming shut on their own, or footsteps echoing through the halls even when no one was there.
By Narrative Eye3 years ago in Fiction
