Humor
Beggin for Bacon
There was a quick knock at the door as the deliveryman dropped off the house groceries. The drop off was a little bit later today than normal, around two thirty instead of one forty-five. On any other day, this wouldn’t be much cause for alarm. A bit of an inconvenience, but oh well. Today, however, they would need every spare minute they could get. Tanya opened the door to find five plastic bags on their doorstep. They could easily be carried in one trip.
By Sukie Harper4 years ago in Fiction
The Semi-Warring States Of Dragon Valley
There weren’t always dragons in the valley that sits between the kingdoms of Dunkren and Rabicula. In fact, before their sudden and mysterious disappearance a few days ago, they had only been there roughly three hundred years.
By Brian Rosen4 years ago in Fiction
Tricycle
“Ding, ding!” Ian screamed while he pedaled his trike down the sidewalk. He’d told mom he was in desperate need of a bell to warn pedestrians out of his way, but the best she could do was add it to the Christmas wish list. The sidewalk sloped and Ian sped up unwillingly. He screamed his dings louder to compensate for the increased danger and tried to slow himself down with his heels. Mom would be angry at him for ruining his shoes, but this was a matter of safety! The friction created by his rubber soles wasn’t doing the job fast enough. He was headed right for the street corner; a sharp curve of death. Ian held his breath and leaned uphill as he turned. His dings turned to cries of panic as his right wheel left the ground. The trike skidded right and the momentum carried it into a concrete street lamp, hitting it broadside. Actually, more of Ian than the trike hit the concrete. As this happened the right wheel of the trike came slamming down and snapped off the body.
By Natalie Scivally4 years ago in Fiction
Purple Glasses in Walmart
I heard once that it’s impossible to read in a dream. Reading involves a separate part of the brain than what is active during dreaming, apparently. Last night I dreamt about walking around a Walmart. I strolled through the cereal aisle skimming the shelves with my hand. A box of cheerios crashed to the floor in front of me before I even touched it. My mother used to exclusively buy cheerios. She always insisted they were better for our “growing bodies” than other cereals. I insisted they gave me trauma flashbacks. In the seventh grade my eldest brother and his brute friends force fed me a shoelace that had been soaked in rain that morning; it dried crunchy, and tasted almost like cheerios. Bending down to pick up the box, I noticed a rip in the side. I ripped it all the way open. There was a sketch of dinosaur bones on the inside of the box, scribbled in thick black sharpie. And next to the drawing were instructions... that I could read. This was the moment I knew it was not a dream. It was a vision. There was a dinosaur buried under Walmart and I had to find it.
By Natalie Scivally4 years ago in Fiction
Mishaps and Popping
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Come to think of it, there weren't always dragons, and Vinter Crushem wasn't always a mad scientist. Well, maybe he was always a mad scientist. Perhaps it was his overactive drive to invent new things, or the fumes from his many concoctions having seeped into his brain, Vinter had since been labeled mad and a criminal to boot after his new creation began self-multiplying and wreaking mischievous havoc all across the kingdom.
By James Willis4 years ago in Fiction
Dragon Business
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Once upon a time and not so long ago, Tranquil Valley was filled with lush trailing vines, laden with delicately scented blooms. Graceful towering trees gave shade to the tiny, brightly plumed songbirds. Iridescent butterflies shimmered in the air, and when the twin suns rose over the mountains, the sparkling waterfalls were nothing short of breathtaking. Travelers came from all corners of the Three Kingdoms to behold the beauty of Tranquil Valley, and the money they spent on food and ale, lodging and cunningly carved souvenirs kept all nine picturesque Villages of the Valley prosperous and content. Then one day Lars the Mariner came riding home over the pass, with a gift for his five year old daughter.
By Suzanne Cowhard4 years ago in Fiction
Downscaled
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Everyone, especially Bertha "Bertie" Winters, agreed that it was all former Mayor Greene's fault. While Bertie did owe her very nice cottage to the Stone Valley Retirement Community, she laid the blame for having to replace the thatch roof - three times so far - squarely on the Mayor's doorstep. Some argued that the idea of getting a tax break for the struggling town for agreeing to host a "community for those over sixty years old" and not checking the fine print was an understandable mistake, but Bertie wasn't having it. What kind of ninny didn't read the fine print? She had no less than four magnifying glasses herself.
By Melissa Coy4 years ago in Fiction
