Fantasy
Showgirls
"12:16. What a typical afternoon. Just waking up in -- oh god, is this my room? Yes, bed. My bed. Score one for the now sober beaver. Okay, girl so you made your way home, and with your old aunties heart shaped locket in tow right there on the dresser in front of the mirror left behind by mother and father - god rest their souls.
By Misty Moon5 years ago in Fiction
What I Found in the Rubble
The meek have inherited the earth. When all the superpowers collapsed themselves there was no one left to deprive us of it. Although they didn't exactly leave a paradise; all the comforts of the modern age went with them. Some people blame the Americans. Others blame the Koreans and the Chinese. Others blame various countries of the Middle East, and still others blame Russia. It doesn't matter now; none of those countries exist anymore. As far as I know, there are no countries whatsoever anymore. The people at the controls might've discriminated, but nuclear fire was more indifferent: It took out everyone, and everything that was on the surface. There was no sign, no warning, no time to intentionally duck and cover. Only those of us who happened to be underground at the time survived the impact, but only a fraction weren't crushed by debris, inevitably starved, or succumbed to oxygen deprivation.
By Noelle Spaulding 5 years ago in Fiction
Doomsday locket
A heart. He could never say, “I love you” but this locket he gave her was in the shape of a heart. She had come that close to being zipped into the forced unity of Russia and Japan. The zipper pulling up to her neck caught on the locket and gave it its heart shape.
By Alice Eckles5 years ago in Fiction
The Place Beyond the Pain
Her eyebrow sweat, as her throat becomes dry and her palms become moist, indicating nervousness for what lies ahead. Mallory Harrison is a human rights lawyer, something she always dreamed of becoming but never realized how much work it would become. Today she is presenting to her firm, a case that would originate in Germany, but arrived in Atlanta. A woman sex trafficked, slaved in the United States. Mallory’s client was stabbed, raped, bitten and bloody. Mallory is fighting for her and all the other women affected by Sex Traffic; boldly Mallory is pushing for strict proposal of law in Georgia. Bobby, her best friend, is seated and supportive, the room is filled with every board member, and she begins presenting along with Bobby’s assistance. Mallory sees a smile from Bobby, only sending butterflies through her already anxious body. As she gets through the presentation, there is a moment of hesitancy as she walks out the room, unsure of the tone of the board’s opinions. “You were amazing in there!” Said Bobby. However, Mallory begins to question herself, “was it enough? Should I have pushed harder? Did I speak clearly?” She thought. Mallory headed back to her desk with a sense of dread, wondering what they might say. “They just sat there and starred at me, making unpleasant faces” she whispers to herself. Mallory wonders if she should approach a member of the board to get a better understand but instead attempts to get back to work on her usual cases. As the day goes on, Mallory questions what the decision of the board will be. Her confidence begins to wither away as each hour passes. Second-guessing every decision, she makes, eventually its 5:00PM, she packs up and heads home. Greeted by darkness, she throws her things down, heats up her dinner before heading off to bed. Unenthusiastic, and feeling defeated by the silence and remarks of the faces of those old men of the board; she quickly falls into a deep sleep.
By Meghan Beauchamp5 years ago in Fiction
The Well
The Well By Walt Allen Sanford knew it was an important job. That doesn't mean it was exciting. That's the thing about lying in wait. It was boring. It was a good day if you didn't have to do anything. Sitting in the blind looking downrange at the well. And hopefully, seeing nothing. That was a good day.
By Walt Allen5 years ago in Fiction
The Wizard of Walls
A story like this has never been told before. Many people have heard of the Wizard of Oz but no many know about the Wizard of Walls. The good news is you don’t have to get caught in a tornado to meet him. You just have to go into his shop but he is still a mystery to behold. One small boy and his family can attest to this.
By Erika Ravnsborg5 years ago in Fiction
Submissive Evil
We returned to the Underworld after my memories were restored and stayed close to the Fold. It called us to stay near, as if it wanted company with the ever encroaching end bearing down on it. Everyday we knelt beside it with our children and waited for our world to crumble apart. We waited for a sign that there might be something we could do to stop the darkness from consuming the Overworld and tearing through the Fold to the Other Worlds that didn’t deserve the destruction. Atlas and I knew we weren’t enough. Our children were feeble and gentle creatures. We would need an army strapped to the bone with rage to walk into the Overworld and overthrow the high-lords and defeat the Darkness growing there. Without one we were no match against it's might. So, we waited.
By J. L. Cross5 years ago in Fiction
I'm Coming Home
“Kisses!” Melony exclaims as she reaches out for her husband. They are both in the whirlwind of their morning routine, except this morning would be starting and ending way outside of their norm. She would often slap 5 or 6 kisses on Carters' face before finally making it out the door.
By Penny Bae Bridges5 years ago in Fiction
Singularity of evolution
They call me Ghost. Time is an expendable Luxury, we never have enough yet we never run out. Since the world started to download our personal histories and current events to prevent the loss of all civilization we as a whole have learned to lean more on the easy to feel feelings. Stuff like guilt and shame, allow us to function in a more singular capacity where our needs are very low maintenance.
By Michael Flowers5 years ago in Fiction
