Young Adult
The Bales & Barnabas Batty
Barnabas Batty had grown spitefully accustomed to the unflattering moniker his fifth-grade classmates saddled him with last summer. Coincidence or kismet, he couldn't say, but the irony of how he was branded as "Batty Barny" bore consequences all the same.
By Mike Morgan5 years ago in Fiction
Trapped
I’m trapped, and I don’t even belong here. The wind rattled the high beams, like a screeching elephant. The rain slowly dripped in from the holes in the barn, the water creating unavoidable puddles. This wasn’t that much of a better option than surviving the outdoors, but at least I could rest.
By Dan Marcus5 years ago in Fiction
The Escape
"Shh!!! He's gonna hear you. Stop doing that! If he hears you, then he'll definitely find me, girl, and that's the last thing I need. Not after getting this far!", Eve said to the gorgeous horse she was trying to steal for her final escape. She was going to wait it out for the owner to fall asleep and take off with the horse. It would be much quicker than trying to make it out of the state on foot. She wasn't going to risk being seen by her boyfriend; if you could call him that.
By Sharon Smith5 years ago in Fiction
The Day I Met Dan Cooper
Occasionally, when I think back on my childhood, I find myself feeling nostalgic for the early mornings in the big red barn. I live in a big city now, convinced in my teens that the farming life was not for me. It was hard, rewarding work, and my body aches at the memories. I am who I am today because of my life back on the farm. I was fourteen years old when a singular and profound thing happened in my simple farm life. I met a man. It is not what you think, trust me. I should explain. My story begins in the big red barn.
By Floyd Doolittle5 years ago in Fiction
Amelie's Barn
Amelie Rose can hear her mother calling. "Amelie, come now darling, your oats will dry." Her mother's voice is always gentle, like a soft and sincere whisper, even when she is cross, and even with her father when he trudges his muddy boots onto the rug at days end.
By April Phillips5 years ago in Fiction
Petunia Pink
It was the summer of ’21. Twenty-twenty one that is. The Pandemic was over, or at least that’s what health officials kept saying. Advertisements on the television and plastered all across every social media feed promised a return to everyday life. Life before the Pandemic. What exactly was that life? I had just turned fourteen, and I was in the prime of my life. Summer without masks, hand sanitizer and being able to sit close to friends is what we all wanted. I had no idea that the Pandemic was merely the beginning of a chain of events unlike any other. Little did I know that my parents buying the barn down on Byers Lane was no coincidence. The barn that was once the location of many of the town’s markets, dances and town hall meetings had sat vacant for many years. No one knew why the town suddenly stopped all activity out of it, but there it sat vacant, until my parents bought it. The barn also happened to be across the street from Petunia’s house.
By Kelly Maurica5 years ago in Fiction
My Hayloft
It was the summer of 1981. I’d just turned sixteen and had recently discovered Rick Springfield. Dreaming about being Jessie’s Girl with a teen heartthrob lusting after me was my salvation since I had nothing more exciting in my life. Summertime on a farm was filled with nothing but hard work. And, more than twenty miles from any real civilization meant that other than an occasional trip to the grocery store, the only people I’d likely see were members of my family.
By Liz Montano5 years ago in Fiction
The Everbright Farm
The barn looked old. Eve hung around the tree line, dodging from dead tower to dead tower as she scouted the building. The locket felt cool on her chest in the warm summer heat as she finished her observations. It was surrounded on two sides by the woods she’d been traveling through. Beyond the farm, she saw an equally abandoned looking home. There were a few chickens nearby, somehow still surviving despite no one seeming to be around to raise them.
By Bradley Freeman5 years ago in Fiction
Marigold Fields Forever
She never wanted to feel such anger and sadness simultaneously; she hadn't asked to feel such pain. Rose wasn't angry at Jacob for passing of course; that was the shared human condition and Jacob, while the perfect man, was not an ever-living god (though he was the god of love, affection, and faithfulness that Rose had always needed). She was angry at cancer for taking someone away from her like that. She was angry at the god of Jacob's understanding for allowing that to happen. The world needed more good men like Jacob Miller; it did not require one less such person. Alas, her curses and her tears didn't bring him back...
By Kent Brindley5 years ago in Fiction
