Adventure

Worshipful Sea
At sunset Pablo turns the rowboat, swinging wide in a sweeping arch to head back for land; he is a middle-aged man with no surviving family, and the necessity of fishing since barely older than a boy.
By James B. William R. Lawrence5 years ago in Fiction
Of Blades and Strikes
Sunlight glinted off the blades of the pair of swords moving strategically through the air as they maneuvered past the window of the ancient temple. Metal clashed with metal. One combatant lurched forward while the other stepped aside and deflected the sword thrust toward the middle of his chest. She had nearly hit her mark. It was an epic battle between two expert sword handlers who had spent decades studying the arts and honing their skills. A master and her former pupil, anxious to demonstrate his mettle, crossed swords with more than pride at stake.
By Thomas Durbin5 years ago in Fiction
Molly and the Cake
Flour was floating in the air as it slowly drifted to the counter as Molly ran around frantically accidentally hitting the flour bag and sending it flying while she tried to locate the supplies she needed for her baking. "Why do I even bother", she said to herself as she slipped on the flour on the floor. Both legs came flying out from underneath her and she landed hard on her back and hit her head on the floor knocking her out. Rick came flying through the double doors and noticed Molly lying on the floor, "Call 911, and hurry', he said as he knelt down beside her.
By K.C. Keats5 years ago in Fiction
Bay Beauty
It was Sumer of 87’ when I got a call from my aunt and uncle from BC and asked if I would like to work at thier gas station and wharf on Maine Island BC. Thier son was getting married and wanted me to watch the business for two weeks.
By Leslie Strom5 years ago in Fiction
The Princess and the Rock
Dustin did not bow as he approached the Minstrel’s throne. With his pinched face and upturned nose, he looked like an arrogant child.
By Kristen Slade5 years ago in Fiction
Lost and Found
We didn’t speak of it. It was just known. 6130 Bakers Road was off limits. The house lain neglected for 20 years.
By tiffany agam5 years ago in Fiction
A Piece of Cake
“It’s your choice”, drawled Striker, his thin lips drawn back in something approaching a grin, “You can eat, or not eat. I really don’t care either way. Believe me.”
By Bryan Hallett5 years ago in Fiction
Adventure Into The Unseen Part III
Five small boats. Seventy three men. This is what remains of the crew. They had departed the open space of the bay where they thought themselves safe. They rowed, each boat full of darting eyes, all the men silent, knowing that somewhere out there, in the very trees to their flanks, could be the silent foes that had butchered their friends and burned their only sure passage home. the voyage was now one way, each man forced to commit, the alternative would be to cower and give up hope, sit on the beach and wait to die.
By Wanderer5 years ago in Fiction
The Old Barn
One of the strangest things to ever happen, happened in an old barn. You might have heard the tale when you were younger, or perhaps you remember it much differently now, but I will remind you of the true tale now. Our story begins long ago, back when there was peace in the world and animals could talk, in a place far away in an old barn, on an old hill, in an old land. It was a dark and stormy night; leaves were whipping over the meadows and the rain splashing into mud and over frog backs. The sky flickered in lightning and constantly rumbled and groaned in thunder.
By F House5 years ago in Fiction
Fever Dream
In this worn-out barn in the middle of the Georgian summer, the most unusual things tend to happen. I was just informing ol' Featherbottom about the rat incident. Just the other day I'm up here in among the rafters and I spy below three rats scurrying across the hay and they dart up Bertha's back, only she's too hot to care, big things like horses get wicked hot and real lazy, but then the rats start crawling across her face and into her ears. Bertha's earcups they start whackin' around wild but two of the rats ride hard, they burrow in, and their little tails follow them down in a slither, and Bertha tries to get up but then WHOOMPH she's down, plumb out, her neck saved by a bale of hay with her head suspended inches from the floor. The last rat gives a loud squeak and follows the others into the ears. I'm up and ready to jump right in, deal death to the buggers, Bertha and me go back, you know, but she's out cold and the rats are inside, and right on the squeak I hear a great Scurrying. More rats then I knew existed start running straight across this barn like cats don't exist. Enough rats that I'm sitting back down and counting my claws, thinkin' maybe I ought to round up some reinforcements--my twolegs keep a couple of kittypets that might handle a rat or two. All those rats, they swarm in a little formation, stop right in front of Bertha like they're waiting for her to speak.
By Christopher Fin5 years ago in Fiction
Angelou Barn
Addison Gayle Collier was reared in one of the wealthier homes of Angelou, Mississippi. Although she was reared in a wealthy home, Addison’s parents tasked her with earning her own money like everyone else in the Collier home. No handouts, and after age twenty-five, Collier children had to establish their own living space. For Addison, she refused to reenact the stigmas like that of her siblings. Every time mother evicted one Collier, another one came trapsing back. With that, Addison moved to Providence, Rhode Island with the mindset of never looking back.
By Ashley D. Gilyard5 years ago in Fiction
Waning Rain
He didn’t know who owned it, but the property was abandoned like you might imagine abandoned to look in an old time movie. A caricature of itself. Tall, dry weeds season after season had grown through rotted tires and rolls of fence wire and bent metal posts along the edge of the dirt road. A giant fuse waiting to be lit. The road led up and around a bend where the apple orchard ended. It must have been dead for a decade at least, maybe longer. Everything was dead here in the last light of the day. The sunset off in the low Western hills reminded him of his serious time problems. He was running out of it.
By Elan Viss5 years ago in Fiction