Fable
SAME AS ME?
To the lost and the fallen, to the beaten and the broken, to the sad and the happy who have yet to feel that moment of sadness when a loss is the saddest part of your day; alas, loss the saddest part of your day, perhaps a week, oh loss, the saddest part of your week; loss, perhaps even longer. Some would say why lose when you can win, for the winner may not be a sinner, but to lose dear winner is not choice but happenstance, sometimes. Fear not, a dear friend of loss, for winning is not all that it appears, but striving for it is a noble idea when the idea itself is noble to all, for winning for winning's sake is folly for the foolish. So win, a dear friend of loss for to try is freedom, and when restraints are put onto thee stand strong, for tomorrow is yet another day to try, to live.
By James Green4 years ago in Fiction
Backlash
The cat ate the mouse and found it tasty. It was yummy at first sight. And yummy at first smell. All the popcorn you could imagine. To your hearts content. In the meantime they would circle each other in a cat and mouse dance. The winner of the dance competition take all. They would become a slave to themselves. I wonder how I would write when I am super tired. Let us find out. As long as the cat enjoyed the mouse it would find itself in the can. The cat had an odd smell to it a mixture of iodine and copper. The mouse followed the tincture of the cat's smell. And left an offensive odor in it's place, an odor that could not be wiped away. It lingered at the touch of another foul reminder. One that could not be replaced by the soap of another era.
By Alex Jennett4 years ago in Fiction
Almost a Daughter
“Would you still like me if I wasn’t a girl?” Her voice was so low he wasn’t sure he heard right so rather than answering right off, he just stared at her. She tossed her head to one side, sable hair storming over her shoulders, glanced back at him for a quick second, clear eyes blue and penetrating, then turned away. Not a girl? Jordyn sure looked a girl. His body responded to her whenever she was close to him the same way it did all girls. That involuntary stiffening, the want, that indecent want, a clawing need. And yet, and yet…
By Dan Glover4 years ago in Fiction
A HAPPY STORY ABOUT THE UNIVERSE, AND STUFF.
First there is something, then there is nothing. No wait, that’s reversed. Or is it? So many ways the universe can begin. It can explode into being from nothingalmostnothingImean, or it can be born on the back of a crocodile, the way I think I read once that some cultures believe the universe was born: the crocodile had to carry a frog across a river, I think, and there was a fox too, or maybe a hippo? The details may or may not be unimportant. It is hard to tell, for true stories.
By Briane Pagel4 years ago in Fiction
Electronic monsters from the Deep
The Art of the Fan Scam They're a tricky bunch - one could easily compare them to internet paparazzi. Although I'm learning to enjoy the game, I give it my all and wait in tow for the inevitable money pitch. It comes in many forms, and it unfailingly comes.
By Jan Portugal4 years ago in Fiction
My friend Herbert
May I introduce my friend Herbert. He lives in the space between the first and second floors of our apartment. We didn't realize that he was living in that space when we moved into this apartment 7 years ago. Suddenly, one day three years ago there was a peek hole where the stairs are to the second floor. He must have been very quiet, we haven't heard anything from that space until we saw his eye one day.
By Lassepetter4 years ago in Fiction
The Brother Bakers of Brighton
When the loaves of bread came out of the oven, Phillip would carefully look for the biggest and crispiest of the batch. He would then pick it, wrap with paper and tie it with a golden lace before setting on top of the oven, to keep it warm.
By The Archaeologist4 years ago in Fiction
Life of swami vivekananda
The Proof Of God When swami vivekananda was just 19 years of age, Vivekananda was a very logical, intellectual boy, and was full of fire. He wanted proper answers for everything. He came to Ramakrishna and asked, “You are talking God, God all the time. Where is the proof? Show me the proof!” Ramakrishna was so simple. He was not an educated man. He was a mystic, not a scholar. So he said, “I am the proof.”
By Bablu Singh4 years ago in Fiction
Hotel
It was cold and lonely in the hotel room she stayed at. A bitter sweet nuisance. Ann was going to part ways with her lover. Hoping that this would clear her conscious. And fade away the love that she felt for Paul. It was hard to remember her life without him, but eventually all of the feelings for him would change. Turn into something that she would regret. Snow was falling at the present time. It would melt her heart and turn her to stone. At the moment it was surprising that the boundaries of the hotel room were passed to another paramount. And yet she was wondering where to start and bound the past moments together. Sarah was so happy that now she could write again to which she had longed for at the moment. Ultimate boundaries would suffice. Hey ladies let us party until the night has passed. That was just a random thought passing by and continuing through the morning to come.
By Alex Jennett4 years ago in Fiction
