Short Story
The Garbage Man
He moves through the barren streets on legs that refuse to give out, feet tapping on the pavement in uneven patterns of one, two, one…..two, onetwoonetwo, one, two. His excitement grows at each passing pile of waste, and he cannot help but be born again every time he finds a dirty old towel.
By Savannah Eve Henley-Rayve5 years ago in Fiction
The Last Optimist
The Man stepped into the ransacked store. Glass shards crunched beneath his worn boots. Like in most places he searched, the windows were all broken. He smelled the air. It was dry. No sickly sweet smell of death, or the distinct stench of animal droppings greeted him. He smiled, reaching into his back pocket and producing a worn leather journal. He drew the pencil safely tucked in its spine.
By Logan Watkins5 years ago in Fiction
The Dream-Maker
When she awoke that morning, she gazed at the disheartening reflection that was staring back at her in the mirror. A quick and hurried glimpse in the mirror was nothing new, she had done so on most mornings before. But what was unlike any other morning, was that she had noticed how the circles around her eyes had become darker, and how the furrowed lines on her face had become clearer. It was almost as though the grey in her hair had streaked through undetected and appeared overnight, somewhere in between dusk and dawn. She noticed how the frown lines on her forehead were suddenly so deeply ingrained, and how the trenches around her mouth were unexpectedly, yet equally visible.
By Author Alice VL5 years ago in Fiction
Moments Series
It’s hard to describe how telling Landon all about my past makes me feel. I am so relieved to not be keeping anything from him anymore because, in the long run, it would’ve just caused problems between us. Not to mention, it feels like a giant weight is lifted off my shoulders not having to keep it locked inside anymore. He is so sweet and sympathetic to my need to talk, and I can’t even say how happy it makes me to not feel the least bit of pity from him. Keeping this bottled up was killing me. My parent’s knowing the whole story is one thing, they lived most of it with me, but being able to tell it in my own time is very cathartic.
By Jennifer Kent5 years ago in Fiction
For Her Broken Heart
She could hardly pinpoint how they got to where they were. There were no angry words, and there were no moments of uncomfortable or awkward silences. There were no mysterious late nights, and there was no tell-tale lipstick on his collar, or hidden love letters in his pockets. Yet, there they were, carrying boxes down the hall and out to his truck, while carefully loading them one by one. There was nothing much to say about anything. There was nothing at all to understand where it all went wrong, and how it all began.
By Author Alice VL5 years ago in Fiction
The Blue Glow of Control
Inside of domicile #642-B its primary occupant Xavier Bragfield sat working at his desk, perpetually bathed in the dulling blue light of his mandatory devices. He was a sensor technician with the Ministry of Environment; it was his job to monitor the various sensor arrays that exist throughout the city. The majority of his time was spent remotely plugged into a vast network of control systems, but on rare occasions he would have to go on-site for some form of physical verification. This gave Xavier access to the various compartmentalized areas of the city at times, including on two occasions being escorted to the outer edge; to the imposing 40m high barrier that surrounded their lives just as it surrounded the long greenhouse structures that encircle each city and divorced the whole of their society from the rest of the planet; beyond this all one could see was a deserted and desolate wasteland. Travel between cities was restricted to only the highest levels of government authorization.
By Antony Peachey5 years ago in Fiction
Two Sides of a Black Night
The workout room was really just the boiler room with some equipment, but it worked well enough. Of course, because it was in fact a boiler room, it was already sweltering hot before she even began. The more you sweat, the more you lose, right? She put her pink earbuds in, launched her Bollywood workout radio on her phone, and got started on her 4:30 am workout.
By Rachal Flewellen5 years ago in Fiction
The Cave
The sun rises over the seemingly endless desert that stretches to the east. A small camp of a dozen soldiers sits a few miles from the Munbu Mountains. One of them is already awake, the leader of the small band. He sharpens his blade as soldiers begin to file out of their tents. They rummage around for their rations of food and begin to suit up their armor. There is little chatter, for they know what today brings.
By Michael Trudeau5 years ago in Fiction
Push My Buttons
Whitewashed concrete walls, mats padding the floors, and the hum of industrial air vents. He was stripped to the waist wearing baggy gray sweat pants, his feet bare. She was in a simple wine-colored tank-top and fitted workout shorts, her hair pulled up into a tight ponytail, her feet also bare.
By Rachal Flewellen5 years ago in Fiction
White Gold
I liked going on walks, but this was different, I had to walk around the back of old stores by their recieving docks to get inside without being seen. Didn't want any of the jerks that survived to get the wrong idea when anything with a vagina was walking around alone, so stay out of sight and I don't have to hurt anyone . . . hopefully. I checked the doors first, if they opened and looked broken I didn't bother. If they were locked I picked them open. Most of these old doors were push bar locks from the inside so I had to card them. 'come on,' I muttered getting excited. The harder the door was to open the better the prize. The door clicked open and a decrepit alarm started going off. Electricity long since gone left the alarm battery all but dead and not much louder than a cat meowing, but that was a good sign. It meant no one has been there since it was abandoned. I kept on guard and took my stance regardless. Can't be too careful. I made it into the store room and looked around. My hope deflated.
By Adam Eccleston5 years ago in Fiction
