Adventure
A Patrol in the Woods
Sometimes, life’s problems can’t be solved with a glass slipper. Sometimes, you need a Nightingale. Or so our billboards proudly stated at every inn, city gate, and causeway that saw any sort of hoof traffic. Matter of fact, I came up with that slogan based on a previous assignment involving a sexual deviant and a very impractical piece of footgear, but you’d never know it considering the distinct lack of royalty checks my pigeons have brought me.
By Stephen A. Roddewig17 days ago in Fiction
The Archive of the Last Seed
The city of Orizon was a marvel of the 24th century. It was a vertical spire of silver and light that pierced the clouds, powered by the constant vibration of the atmosphere. Inside, everything was synthetic. The walls were made of self-healing polymers, the air was scrubbed to a perfect clinical scent, and the food was printed in 3D blocks of nutrient-dense protein. To the citizens of Orizon, "nature" was a high-resolution simulation you could project onto your bedroom walls if you were feeling nostalgic for a history you never lived.
By Asghar ali awan17 days ago in Fiction
The Clockmaker of Chronos Lane
In the heart of a city that never stopped to breathe, there was a narrow alleyway known as Chronos Lane. It was so thin that two people could barely walk abreast, and at its very end sat a shop no larger than a garden shed. The sign above the door didn't say "Jeweler" or "Watch Repair." It simply bore the image of a single, unadorned brass gear.
By Asghar ali awan17 days ago in Fiction
Incomplete Interpretation
The commander of the country’s army was, as usual, patrolling the city with his soldiers. While passing through the streets, he reached a marketplace where his attention was drawn to a beggar standing at a corner. The beggar was staring directly at him, and there was a strange glow in his eyes. After a moment, the beggar stepped closer.
By Sudais Zakwan18 days ago in Fiction
Pernicious With A Purpose
“Olawdry, are you coming to bed yet?” Mairlz called from the bedroom. Olawdry was staring at himself in the mirror pulling down the bags underneath his red eyes. “Yes, sweetie. I’m coming.” He responded tiresome. He hit the light switch, shut the door behind him, and walked over to his side of bed where he could see the moonlight outside the window.
By Devond Devoe18 days ago in Fiction
