Adventure

The Harvesters
When Jim Blake opened his eyes, he was once again lying on his back staring up at the familiar canopy of Chickamauga Creek – but the forest was not the same. Everything surrounding him was a stark, bright white, and purely motionless. He sat up and wondered at this alabaster Chickamauga Creek. Grass was the same shade of colorless ivory as the trees, and the leaves of the trees bore the same shade of nothing as the bark. The only color to be seen was the bright blue of the sky, which Jim had a hard time believing was really a sky at all. There was no sun, and the bright blue did not belong to the sky as he knew it. It belonged on petticoats worn by fine city women or painted toy trains, but not on a sunless sky that somehow illuminated the world.
By A. Vaughn4 years ago in Fiction
Red Ball
I don’t like my hand-me-down spacesuit. I don’t expect the Organization to tailor work clothes to employees' tastes, but at least they could have issued one that fits me. My predecessor is taller than I am, and somewhat skinny; these suits are adjustable, but it still takes a bit of elbow grease to yank the sleeves down and let out the waistline a tad. I’m difficult to satisfy — a sure sign of high intelligence, I believe.
By Eric Wolf4 years ago in Fiction
It was all about the view
Thomas boarded his ship, yes, it was his. He spent a little over two years doing nothing but thinking of every detail and dreaming of this very day. The day when his life’s work would finally be reviled to the world. He knew every inch of this 882-foot ship, inside and out. He knew it took 825 tons of coal per day to fuel the 3 engines. And that it could go an impressive 23 knots but the Titanic wasn’t built for speed, she was built for comfort.
By Natalie Lowes4 years ago in Fiction
Outsider - Chapter 2
The line of dwarves outside the palace had doubled in length since his arrival in the early hours of the morning and now stretched along the entire wall of the stone hall. Some dwarfs were more richly dressed than him, but the prevalence of rough, woolen, dark blue and black cloaks, and tattered black, mud worn trousers showed that most of the petitioners were soldiers or miners. Their anxious faces looked like they had been freshly cleaned, and the small copper cuffs wound into their braided beards had been polished for the occasion.
By Klaire de Lys4 years ago in Fiction
The Governess and Her Dancing Men
Few detective stories are better known than Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes tales. Likewise, arguably one of the most famous ghost stories is Henry James’s The Turn of the Screw, though it is debated whether this is a ghost story or the sinister tale of a mentally unstable governess. This governess will be reimagined as Elsie Cubitt of Doyle’s The Adventure of the Dancing Men, in this essay. The resulting implications on how the story would be told with this crossover will be analysed. Following this, a potential plot twist that might accompany such a change is examined. It will be argued it was Mrs Cubitt, in the bedroom, with the revolver, in this literary version of Cluedo.
By Carla Greenfield4 years ago in Fiction
The Yellow Hibiscus Chapter 3
The downstairs buzzer screamed, throwing me back into reality. I jumped, spilling coffee all over the table. I scrambled to the intercom by the door, pressed the speaker button, and asked, "Who is it?"
By Annelise Lords 4 years ago in Fiction
FREE
The Fairwind had sailed out of sight long ago with the injured warriors from Vandar. Eberon, Vandar's most famous warrior, had been among the injured and, to the average onlooker, that sounded like a great loss to freedom. Nonetheless, the freed slaves atop Highcliff deserved to celebrate their own efforts to fight for liberty; yet, it wasn't Princess Ki-la of Vandar's place to shatter the illusion of who Eberon, the Mighty, truly was as a person...
By Kent Brindley4 years ago in Fiction
Curtains
From the official report of Inoue Noburu, Cartographic Service-Division 74ZZ+3, [DATE]: My first thought, when I viewed my orders, ran to this: Which shall it be: death in a painless flash, before I set foot on solid ground? Or one of painful increments, once I step outside of my ship?
By Eric Wolf4 years ago in Fiction
Pipe Hero
"Damned" - Chapter 1 Okay, I just need you to visualize what it's like to get peer-pressured into going to a party with some friends. You finally get past the bargaining phase, make it to the party, and watch everyone get plastered around you. Everyone and I mean everyone is hammered around you and having a hell of a time. Meanwhile there you are in the back, with a singular drink in your hand and a thought dawns on you all of a sudden. "Hey, what the fuck am I doing here?" Which is usually paired with a, "Why did I even come here, to begin with?" Afterward, you immediately veer off to the nearest bathroom to come up with an excuse to leave your extremely inebriated friends. It's like you woke up out of bed feeling drained and your body just ran on autopilot all day until your brain realizes what has all happened too late.
By HUNG PHI BUI4 years ago in Fiction
Games
A stranger is sitting, if you call it sitting, in my treehouse as I try to explain to him the game of Monopoly. "No, no, no," I said. "You're stupid Billy Ailes and you've been left twice. The Boardwalk is yours. You bought it and you own it. You can't just throw it away. Maybe you can sell it, but if you give up all your properties. You will lose the game."
By Anisha dahal4 years ago in Fiction
Some Form of Contact
Jody climbed the rough ladder to the roof of the house, Mick behind her making the metal move through her heavy male stairs. His face was close to his ass, which embarrassed and pleased him. He was a young man who burned grass all over the apartment. He imagined himself kissing her in the hot sun. He turned, breathing, to help her over the cup, embarrassed, convinced that the climb was a game ahead.
By Anisha dahal4 years ago in Fiction
The Magicain
Tonight's new trick was a Water Torture Escape. The Great Oshin liked to do a new trick each weekend at The Pier, his nightclub. The first run of the trick at nine o'clock on Friday night was almost always a sellout.
By Mark Stigers 4 years ago in Fiction