Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Earth.
Bebe, Baba, and the Bunch
There he was...sitting there, looking so cute and adorable. I came to this same spot regularly, but I never noticed him before. Was he a local? Perhaps he had come here before but I just didn’t notice him. I wanted to introduce myself but I was busy and he seemed a bit distracted. Maybe I would see him tomorrow.
By Veronica Wanzer5 years ago in Earth
IVORY ISLAND
This can’t be happening, I thought to myself. I looked around, and my entire canoe was surrounded by a pod of sharks. I felt like a small star in the vast sky, but I didn’t panic. Instead, I stopped paddling and lifted my paddle from the water. I looked over at Brian, my boyfriend, and he seemed petrified at the sharks that surrounded his canoe as well.
By Elyssa Ely5 years ago in Earth
What a waste
Christmas of 1973, I received my first sewing machine at the ripe old age of 10. I still have that sewing machine. I no longer us it but, I will never let it go. That machine sits in my sewing room in a prominent spot so that I can see it every day. It represents the beginning of the love affair I have with creating and the euphoria I have when I have finished something I have been working on. Often in the evenings I would cut out a pattern just so I would have it ready to work on. There is something special about getting up before the sun and sitting at my machine. I am not sure if it is the stimming cup of tea, the quietness of the house or the rhythmic sound of the machine going thump. thump, thump but, I could sit there for hours.
By Kathleen Kile5 years ago in Earth
The Cloudy Pacific
The California dream is a golden coastline, glorious water and stress-free living. Only one of those things is true. I found myself desperately missing home as my toes anchored me to the Malibu shoreline. Was this it? Violent, cloudy water? The drive to Will Rogers Beach from my Echo Park apartment had me melting like a popsicle in the driver's seat of my CRV; but somewhere along the Pacific Coast Highway the seasons magically transformed and suddenly it was winter in the dead of July.
By Christy bradley5 years ago in Earth
'We Weren't Always Extinct'
In 1993, I bought this landscape stone from an Arkansas woman selling crystals for$1/pound off a table by the side of the road. Oh, I bought some crystals too, but this chunk of extinct fossil seabed grabbed my attention. From the sound of it, her husband and their sons had collected it against her advice.
By Amethyst Qu5 years ago in Earth
Healing Sword
I step onto a yard of grass, green and fresh with the rain of the day before, and I press my bare toes into it. I greet the sycamore whose roots coil below before turning to the light of the sun, rising in the east, and the warmth embraces me like a friend missed for some time. Mockingbird perches at the top of the electric pole, preening her feathers in the dawn light before singing her old song, and I quiet my mind to listen. Her songs are indigenous like me, and I always keep my ears tuned for pieces of shared language and stories about the land, and our ancestors which her kind remembers, but my people have forgotten. I take a deep breath and thank God for waking me, and for the cool of the air which I know will not last as the day progresses and the sun’s caress will turn into a harsh beating. I grip the sheath of my sword, draw the blade free and raise it to a sky tinted gold. I present my weapon to the heavens and summon energy from the high cosmos, down to my dimension to course through the tip of my sword, down the length of the gleaming blade and into me. I proceed into movement, wielding my weapon with the surety of an extended limb.
By Jarrad DeGruy5 years ago in Earth
Connecting Uniqueness
The familiar crunch under her bare feet as she steps onto the high forest's pine covered floor. Both the feel of dry needles breaking beneath her weight and the sound hitting her ears like a comforting call of mother. The layers of years creating a comfortable, padded walkway that welcomes her visits. As she steps down the slight incline lined with rocks and young plants; the world behind her fades away and she crosses a washout ditch. A simple bridge of boards, one of many you can see as you gaze down the ditch in both directions. An old toy truck sits in the dirt below the bridge, giving hints of days when childhood filled the air. Stepping from the bridge and over the berm, she finds herself in a beautiful new world.
By Jami Larson5 years ago in Earth
The Shark Was Her White Rabbit
You don’t really think about breathing until you’re running out of air. Naiad wished these thoughts would strike her at a more convenient location, above ground, where she could actually write them down. Being 60 feet underwater with dwindling oxygen was not the ideal place to have a spark of inspiration. Yet here she was.
By E.K. Daniels5 years ago in Earth
