Adventure

Project Noah
Casey was always a difficult child. Argumentative, willful, and sometimes just plain mean. He never got along with any of his classmates, and the only beings he called ‘friends’ were in the forms of pets, plants and even insects. He spent his days after school playing with his creature friends all the way until suppertime when his mom would gently coax him back indoors.
By Alex Perez5 years ago in Fiction
West of the Fracked Lands
I. I drop my pack at my feet as I step under the scraggly shade of a tall jackpine at the edge of the wildwood. The relief when I close my eyes is immediate, a black curtain dropping on the fir greens and birch whites swimming across my vision in the blazing heat. It’s hard to believe that the first Somali refugees coming to work in the gas and oil fields last century were called "ciyaal baraf," children off the snow.
By Jesse Warewaa5 years ago in Fiction
The Watermill
Was Springtime. The grass was still slightly soft, but we were able to enjoy the day wearing our T-shirts and dresses now. It was the early 19th century. I was in my late 20's with three children. Was full-blooded Iroquois. Experiencing the New World each day. I had married, the son of Lester Howe. An explorer in the Mohawk Valley, of New York. Lester had built a business, sort of museum called Howe Caverns. It was a tourist attraction for many. An underground gem. My husband Chester and I occasionally took a canoe ride in the little river through parts of the cave. I had met a magical man. His father studied magic, a few times during the week. Told him, this will help him everyday and to never forget what powers you really have.
By Janet Rouge5 years ago in Fiction
Turtle Country
My name is Annabelle Jenkins. I am twenty-three years old. The last time I checked, I weighed 113 pounds and the nurses say I am fit, if a little underweight, for fighting.
By Julia Trinidad5 years ago in Fiction
The Ashen Lands
Bones creak as I rise To dim gray morning light. Stumbling across the floor Crimson life from my lip takes flight.
By Buck Lowe5 years ago in Fiction
Reunion
It began on a grey December morning, the news reports were coming in from all around the world, the typical rhetoric from the politicians and media said do not panic but panic set in, as this was the most common response to such statements. A virus had escaped, or had developed, or had evolved, in some land far to the East that no one could pinpoint, they informed us it had the potential to kill a third of the world’s population, but again ‘do not panic’ was the repeating message.
By Jeremy Cavenagh5 years ago in Fiction
A Locked Dystopia
Malia ran down the overgrown hiking trail through the woods. Tree branches and briar patches tried to slow her. She ignored their cruel slaps and scratches and pushed past them. From the loud rumble of the engines that echoed through the canyon, she knew the raiders were coming back. She was on foot, as Chris had been. She wouldn't be able to outrun their trucks and motorcycles.
By Kristen Gee5 years ago in Fiction
Fantasy Non Fiction
Greetings Everyone. August of 2019 my fiancee passed away from a massive heart attack at the age of 45. She was a wonderful woman with a heart of gold larger than Fort Knox who stood by my side as my warrior princess. A strong and honorable woman who's love was a truly a treasure.
By Timothy Sokoloff5 years ago in Fiction
Street Rats
“SGT Dick!” he called. Corporal Bob Herrington stood facing the city. “Reconnaissance of the last standing tower is set for two clicks into the moon hours. Pack light, the final tower looks big with all those plants growing onto to it, but it’s only a stairway and two walls. Probably been picked clean already. I’m just gonna bring …”
By David Aleman5 years ago in Fiction
Locked In
She hands it to him. Mother to son. Flora to Orchid. A heart shaped golden locket. Inside, the melted remains of a bit of photographic paper of his great-great-great-great grandmother, the matriarch of the family and a hero in her own right. Nana Nature, as she had fondly been deemed, had been the one stopping the bulldozer, alerting the children worldwide on live link and Tick-Tock* of the impending destruction of the world. She got up on her chair. She danced and she sang like no one had before. She danced through fires. She showered herself in flames too hot and in her fireproof green jumpsuit. She showed those children the images of the earth hundreds of years ago where there was wildlife in gardens, plants and human interaction. She brought back the real conservation that was Earth Day and with a flare which has not been matched since.
By DR Stanislawski5 years ago in Fiction
Lajamanu
I reflect on the first night when the car died. I remember how the engine slowed to a paralyzing silence, everything went pitch black. I cried. Getting to Alice Springs was always going to be impossible. I searched my existence for an answer, hoping my biology would keep me alive. My sobbing ceased as I recalled something I was told about surviving out here in the dark, 'Find the moon, then follow the light down’. It was an old Aboriginal bloke I met in Katherine who told me, he furthered that ‘everything will open up.'
By Janon5 years ago in Fiction
For the Love of Family
Navy crouched down in the dry brush and focused to control both her breathing and her heartbeat. Her pulse was ringing in her ears as she slowly slid her hands up and down the backs of her thighs allowing the tights she was wearing to dry her sweat-soaked palms. The doe she was stalking suddenly jerked her head up and got completely still save for the ears that were twitching. Listening. Navy held her breath and followed suit. Completely still but watching. Waiting. The creature resumed its meal, and Navy prepared to kill hers. She picked up the hand-crafted bow and arrow and aimed. As she exhaled, she heard the air being sliced as a foreign arrow whizzed by her ear striking her prey.
By Kayla Bryant5 years ago in Fiction