Adventure
Hamilton
On one ordinary midsummer night, something happened that would relentlessly haunt me for the rest of my life. I awoke with a start at the shrill sound of a single scream piercing the night air. I quickly rose from my bed and looked out my open bedroom window. The county road was barely illuminated by two lights: the front porch light of our house and Hamilton’s flashlight.
By Nicholas Kleinhenz5 years ago in Fiction
Legend from Mouseville
The summer heat was dying like the leaves on the trees. Gusts of wind whisk the fields of hay. Not so long ago, fresh bales roll across the scape of the horizon. A lull glow shined through the shadows on the field's edge. As the sun-kissed, the sky ever so gently in its morning rise.
By Opal A Roszell5 years ago in Fiction
The Escape
Krystal cringed at the sound of his heavy, drunken footsteps coming up the stairs. Shaking, sweating, her body filled with fear and anger-- she couldn’t take this anymore. She would not take this anymore. Snatching her go-backpack (saved for just this occasion), she slid out the window and quietly climbed down the trellis.
By Nanette Noyes 5 years ago in Fiction
The Inheritance
At last, Sarabella sighted the rooftop of the old house, as she climbed up the dense foliage of the mound behind the little village. She had taken the old path to avoid contact with the village folks. She steeled her heart against the bile welling up in her stomach, threatening to relive her pains in this shithole she once called home. Clearing the mound's climb, she slung her duffel bag over her right shoulder and walked steadily towards the house standing in lonesome abandonment in the middle of the four acres that was her father's farmland. It looked more like just land than farm. Thick overgrown grass and shrubs overwhelmed the crops. Here and there, one could see parts of broken farm equipment jut out over the weeds. Halfway between the edge of the farm and the house, Sarabella paused to take in the view of the storey-ed farmhouse, where she spent the first thirteen years of her life. There weren't many pleasant memories to pick from. She tightened her hold on her rather light bag as she made her way to the house. Hers was going to be a very short visit.
By Emrys Ijaola5 years ago in Fiction
Stars of Tyde Pt. 3
The first week of shipments had gone well enough that Orla opened the main deck to the crew to party and drink to their heart's content. She figured it would allow the freedom that they might have missed with other captains and it would give her a chance to see how her crew acted relaxed. Orla drew a sigil on the helm, linking her magic to the ship keeping them on course.
By Alexandrea Justine5 years ago in Fiction
The '68
The old doors rattled and squeaked as the rollers moved for the first time in ages. I winced as a musty smell of old hay, dirt, oil, and manure flew out of the opening. Dust and old wood fell from everywhere. It wasn’t my quietest moment of scavenging, that’s for sure. Luckily this place was in the middle of nowhere, and it was pretty obvious that no one had been here for decades. Rural farms were slowly making a comeback the past few years, mostly as communes, but places like this typically need too much work to rebuild.
By Robert Ebersold5 years ago in Fiction
