Series

Charlie's Awakening
Part One: I Am Charlie It's 5:30 a.m. and the sun hasn’t even come across the sky yet. Out here in the backwoods, I can see everything the morning sky has to offer an early bird.
By Shardonae Williams5 years ago in Fiction
Old Friend
“He's dead then?” “I'm afraid I don't know Ma'am, I just deliver the mail.” With a hum Lady Arazmus gestured grandly with one lithe, kaftan cloaked arm toward the polished Iolite desk that sat centre stage in her office. She puffed on a cigarette and watched the courier scurry over the ebony floohr to place the parcel gently upon the beautiful polished crystal surface. With head bowed he practically ran from the room, wishing not to find his name added to the long list of citizens who incurred the wrath of Lady Viper. A nickname she was surely aware of and did nothing to dissuade. She blew a cloud of blossom coloured smoke into his face a he passed before slamming the door and leaning back against heavy gilded surface.
By Saskia5 years ago in Fiction
Finding Connections
It sat there on the kitchen counter. A simple brown paper-wrapped package, nothing threatening per se. But it’s ominous presence had weighed heavily on her since it had been delivered by the drone at 0900.
By LeeAnna Tatum5 years ago in Fiction
Menos Vida
“Menos vida de la que deberia tener una bebe,” she heard the nurse say as she set the baby down on the table. Through the fog of childbirth, she couldn’t think. She was confused. Why wasn’t the baby crying? Where is the crying?
By Jim Hosley5 years ago in Fiction
A Single Call
(2nd Part of Scavenger Hunt mini-series) The police had taken the finger. I had no choice but to get them involved. What if the finger didn't belong to Owen? Was someone else playing games with me?
By A.R. Zeller5 years ago in Fiction
The Black Lake of Dour
The Black Lake of Dour Heidi lay staring at the ceiling, still sweating. The nightmare she had woken up from still shook her. She kept her eyes closed, still scared she might open them and see the focusless gaze of the two teenage boys she had the misfortune of finding the previous week at Grannys.
By Gabriel Smith5 years ago in Fiction
The Raging Beast
I could feel the pain in her chest clearer than ever, and I knew that this pain ran deep. Still holding the picture frame in my hands, I looked down at the girl smiling back at me. Her hair was curly and bright, almost white, with a yellow Marigold flower stitched onto her overalls. She was a girl on a farm, with love spread across her face; but I watched her change as I felt the story they had told me warm my heart.
By Maeple Fourest5 years ago in Fiction
Remembrance of a Dream
Vivian sighed mournfully. Her entire life she’d lain bedridden and just when she finally made a friend, Vivienne had left, returned to her own world. Illior, as well as the servants, had done their best to try to cheer her up but she missed her friend dearly.
By Antonia Mele5 years ago in Fiction
Bootleggers' Legacy, Chapter One
Elisha and George huddled together over the newspaper from Shreveport. It was several weeks old and smudged from dozens of fingers running across the pages, but the words of the headline were still unmistakable: PROHIBITION TO START IN JANUARY. George shook his head and took a swig from his flask. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he said, “Well, I reckon we got us three more months to stock up. That dadgum Congress and this fool Volstead, whoever he is. Parson says it ain’t gon’ be agin’ the law to have liquor, but ain’t nobody gon’ be able to sell it, legal-wise, nohow.”
By Dawn Harper5 years ago in Fiction
A Stick of Gum and a TV Remote
Debra dropped to her knees pushing vines and branches aside to crawl under the rock overhang. With a branch, she gently scrubbed the fallen leaves, removing her footprints; pulling the foliage into place, she prayed she was hidden. She would rather die than be found, although being found might easily lead to her death.
By CJ Flannery5 years ago in Fiction
Brown Paper Box
Brown Paper Box Part 3 He was a good boy. He knew he was. He had been told all the time, which made this silence so much more painful. What had he done to deserve this? Sitting at the curb, he closed his eyes and remembered the times he was scratched behind the ears and told, “Hey, Buddy, you’re a good boy, you know that?” He had. He had known. Now the fur behind his ears was matted and dirty, with biting burrs digging into his tender skin.
By Mayra Martinez5 years ago in Fiction
Welcome Home to Hell
Eyes downcast, clutching tight to the orange backpack in her arms, Thea stepped off the bus. She knew she shouldn’t be here, knew she was going against everything they had warned her about, but her memories told a different story than theirs and she wanted to know the truth. She wanted to see for herself.
By L. J. Knight 5 years ago in Fiction