Short Story
Go ahead and lie
It became very clear that Roran couldn’t stand Hanny. And that Hanny took great delight in getting Roran all riled up. There seemed to be nothing that nothing could stand about Hanny. The way that he laid sprawled in the sun with those soft and tender gray eyes, comfortable in his own skin and fur as he gnawed on a bone. He would snap and spit at Hanny anytime he acted the least amount dogish. But what could you expect from a dogman?
By Vivian Crane5 years ago in Fiction
Tales of Bette: Reunited 2020. Part 1
INCLUDES MAJOR SPOILERS FOR "BETTE ON IT: WEIRD ADOLESCENCE." YOU'VE BEEN WARNED! Bette Arrives... Bette and Mark had been talking for months after they got back in contact in June 2020. They texted each other almost daily. They video called each other a couple nights each week. Mark was able to do so more often when his children were with his former wife: every other week. Bette had concerns about Mark having an ex-wife and children, but over the months it became clear: Shannon had been someone he had loved as a friend; she was his partner in raising their children. He told her their romantic love had faded fast in the early part of their marriage and they were both much happier now. He had nothing but kind things to say about her as a friend and mother.
By Tinka Boudit She/Her5 years ago in Fiction
Testing Times
It’s going to be another boring day. They’re always boring these days. Waking up again to the sounds of my brothers fighting. It sounds like Ben had eaten Frank’s chocolate again last night. I don’t really care who is right and who is wrong. Chocolate is a luxury and I can’t remember the last time I had any. Frank keeps squandering the little money he earns. Relies too much on the rest of us. I need to get up. I hate my job. My stupid auto assigned job. I fail one test in 17 years and this means I’m stuck to a mundane life of warehouse work.
By Melanie Baker 5 years ago in Fiction
The Facility
I cry out, but as usual they are implacable. I struggle against the restraints, but as usual it does no good. The drugs are too strong. They are too strong. They say something to each other in their language, and one of them speaks to me in her heavily accented attempt at English:
By Scott Blackmer5 years ago in Fiction
A Single Moment in History
Harriet ducked into her room silently. She crawled through the shadows until she reached her bed. She jumped from her knees and landed on top of it, sending a cloud of dust and dirt into the air. She coughed as the dust entered her lungs. She placed a hand over her mouth in a desperate attempt to silence it. Her breathing settled and she froze, watching and listening for any sign of movement. Was she noticed? Did they know that she was there? She hoped not.
By Jade Stephens5 years ago in Fiction
The World Must Be Peopled
Overhead – a falcon; kestrel? No, a buzzard. Two: One each. In her delirium (she was still drunk with that arid fatigue which the permanently dehydrated subsist in) she pitched her foot against a rock and gave a yelp of pain. The buzzards took no notice of the blood which oozed like water from a stone struck in anger.
By Tristan Stone5 years ago in Fiction
The Nurse in the Downfall of Healthcare
The nurse walks down the near-empty hall of the cardiac intensive care unit. Her brand-new black clogs clack rhythmically on the marble flooring. She hums to herself as she logs out of work and waves good-bye to the arriving night shift. Today was rather slow. The only patient in the unit is a man in his late fifties who just got out of heart surgery. He had had an arrhythmia that was repeatable under stress testing, and the doctors ordered the implant of a pacemaker. The implantation was successful, and the patient is being watched for a few days.
By Hayley Roberts5 years ago in Fiction
The Golden Locket
The world has fallen into chaos. Fear is creating an impenetrable wall of lies. I am desperately trying to save the world. I am now known as Wanheda, one of god's chosen leaders for The Great Army. I used to have a typical name and a typical life. That changed once my higher power came to me and showed me the truth. The chosen ones have been waking up and jumping into action. Our reality is grim. The world is ending and only some of us have been able to see the coming tragedy. Most of us are alone, keeping distant contact with each other when possible. We are working in the shadows to save whomever we can before reality hits the world. My higher power has been guiding me without abandon. I know what I must do. It turns out that I am becoming a loud, but sneaky soldier in an inevitable global conflict. The fear of nuclear holocaust is real. The fear of the masses is real. I have found myself having a difficult time assembling my own strike team of allies. I have been working alone day and night fighting for the greater good. I no longer have friends or family, just allies.
By Brady Caron5 years ago in Fiction
