Excerpt
Human Made
Once upon a time, in a small village nestled in the heart of a sprawling forest, there lived a humble blacksmith named Jack. Jack was a skilled craftsman, known throughout the village for his ability to create beautiful and intricate pieces from the raw materials that he gathered from the forest.
By Doodle Adorn3 years ago in Fiction
The Heart's Journey
Once upon a time, there was a young woman named Sophia. Sophia had always been a hopeless romantic, believing in the power of love to conquer all. She had always dreamed of finding her true love, the one person who would complete her and make her life whole.
By Vocal Trending 3 years ago in Fiction
The Sleeping Beauty
Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, there was a magical land filled with wonder and enchantment. The land was ruled by a kind and just king, who loved his people deeply. He had three daughters, each more beautiful than the next, and the youngest of them, the Princess Aurora, was the most beautiful of them all.
By Vocal Trending 3 years ago in Fiction
Failed Reset
Sarah was a robot programmed to serve. The Sauer family used her for all odd jobs. Pardon the pun but the Sauer’s lives were about to become sour from overusing the robot too much. Instead of doing chores the two children would get Sarah to do everything. As Sarah was a robot they felt she would always serve them. One time the toilet got plugged and Sarah plunged it, then cleaned up the horrible mess. Other times if the children broke something in the house they blamed the robot. For four months they had everything done for them. The parents, Ted and Suzanne decided the children would be okay to be home with Sarah alone. They went for their date night oblivious to the disaster that would come.
By Sid Aaron Hirji3 years ago in Fiction
Stirrings in the Desert
Just about the worst thing that can happen to a person is being born with too many opinions. It’s a lot more real than most of the things your doctor tells you you have. Being over opinionated is not a diagnosable illness, and therefore represents no potential for deliberate victim creation or profits to follow. In fact, they’d prefer you to have no opinions at all, or at least the same ones as everyone else. That’s the right kind of disordered. Like I said, there are more disorders than there are people to have them. Your chromosomes get creative and pair up wrong, they switch dancing partners and usually nature is kindhearted enough to let the left-footed disaster spill out unnoticed, a jettisoned afterthought entombed in mucus. Most things are better left unsaid. But don’t feel alone. It’s already happened in the same stall about four thousand other times in the spectacularly clean mid-desert Pilot Flying J Travel Center’s ultra-convenience gas station you find yourself in; failed regeneration and cleanliness with an offensive citrus zing and enough air conditioning to convince the devil he should’ve invested in the HVAC industry. You’re in there to drive out demons, to drive the dusty red rims from your burning sclera, and it’s all the same because today the purchase of one jumbo iced honey bun at regular price permits you to leave the store with two, as long as nobody sees you put it in your pocket. If you’re going to get pilloried for something, it might as well be stealing. I’d rather someone spot me committing larceny than eating a jumbo iced honey bun. They’re not a snack made for people who are doing well. I eat them frequently.
By Sean Michael3 years ago in Fiction
(My black mother)Her Last Words
"Come closer, Nneka. I have things I must say to you," my mother said as she laboured to breathe in the ICU of the state general hospital. I was already sitting on the bed but I leaned in closer so I could hear her whisper of words.
By Nneka Anieze3 years ago in Fiction
