Fable

The Truce
There he is, Maya thought to herself, there’s the rich bastard that has it all. She squinted at her neighbor, Ethan Shepherd, as he pulled into his driveway in his sleek new luxury car. It was his fault she was poor. He’s the one who’d destroyed her beautiful peach orchard, which had been in her mother’s family for generations, costing Maya her livelihood, her sanity, and her pride. He’d plowed down her trees and turned them into a luxury housing development complete with pear tree-lined golf courses and cookie-cutter McMansions with self-centered fat cats and their even fatter egos revolving in and out of them.
By Brijit Reed4 years ago in Fiction
daffodil
When Narcissus was born, his parents asked the gods to foretell the child's fate. The result of the inquiry made the couple very sad. For the oracle saith, The child shall never see his own face; but when he seeth his own face, he shall die.
By Jeannette Harris4 years ago in Fiction
The Light of Hidden Things
Ira found his Door the same day he lost his childhood. It was also the first day of summer and for a brief moment when he woke that morning the world felt like it had gone still. His aunt had gone to the neighbors house, his father was in town, and Ira’s only concern was the litter of kittens that had been born the night before. That was the last day of his childhood, and the day he found his Door.
By inQubate4 years ago in Fiction
Just another day in the library
*Alarm rings*. 4am up again, great. This gives me just enough time to get a quick meal in, workout and wash up before having to jog to the bus... just like yesterday and the day before that and of course cant forget the one after this. Where could I possibly be going at such dreadful hours you might ask. You didnt ask? Either way ill pretend you did, I mean you are in MY brain! So back to what I was saying each morning I have the delight of waking before the sun even begins to rise because I am *drum roll* the Librarian... Yeah not very exciting is it, Now dont get me wrong this job certainly has its perks the biggest being its the only way I'd be able to afford this schools tution. Most of the other students my roomate included have the privilege of having mommy and daddy pay for thier classes. And well clearly I am not one of those people. I know I may sound bitter, which is absolutely true but I find focusing on the shitty parts of life only make them smell worse. When I can I try to just laugh things away I mean after all none of ours lives are really that exciting, trust me I should know; every single day people walk by and I try to find a story that might match thier lives (after all it is my job to memorize the inventory - and this really helps me better understand my cliental). Im usually not far off but sometimes I do get taken by surprise. Finally, the bus is stopping; I always get off a stop before I have to so that I have time to literally stop and smell the roses. Luckily for me the botany sector of campus is right next door (see I told you this job had its perks). I clock in at 5:25 every morning its almost like a game for me to try and get here at the exact same time; helps me make sure the clocks are working- get it clockwork *dum tiss*. I didnt really want to get too into it earlier but the university I attend is very "fancy" which is my way of saying it takes lots of money to come. Usually for someone in my demographic economically coming here is alot less than unlikley. Thankfully for me some random donor my senior year of highschool decided they would 'invest' in the "living dictionary". This is probably where I should note that when I was little my mom would have me read aloud often (she would say how she preferred the sound of my voice over her own) I did it happily, the only thing was that hotels usually only keep two books bibles and dictionaries and because my mother was far from i'd just read all the words over and over again and tell shed jokes using the ones she liked the most. But by the time I had turned 13 my mother had died and all I had left was that dictionary. I moved in with my aunt who saw my talent as our ticket out, so I studied and we basically lived in bookstores my entire life... even still now (clearly I just cant escape, for the record im not even sure i'd want to if I could). She worked really hard to get me into great schools and I since I didnt want her to feel like she was wasting her time every spelling bee I ever joined, I won and with the money we saved finally for the first semester. I wasnt actually going to attend I knew it wouldnt be worth all the time shed have to work just for me to come but I still had to apply just for peace of mind. When we got word that I was accepted we cried on the livingroom floor and ate pizza all night. Two weeks later we get another letter that told us my tution would be paid covered in full for all four year but only if I agreed to work in the library "to help the other kids". I instantly agreed, but between you and me; im already in year three and noone has ever asked me for help with anything more than what they could find by reading our signs. Typically my shifts include regular librabrian things like picking up and putting away books, checking people out and read a couple on my own in the dead silence because unless its finals weeks its usually only me with the expection of some frequenting near by residents. The actual favorite part of the job is every holiday when student counsel comes to decorate (I always try to help but they never need it so I just stare and try to act invisible when they are there). They always have some punny theme, corny usually but it makes me think of my mom and the times before I lived in the "real world". And well we are all entitled to find things joy in the things that surround us. Other than those rare instantes and of course finals week nothing much ever happens while im busy at work being the protector of knowledge ( I should really get me a cape). Im off by 6 which honestly normally goes by pretty quick, thier always something new to read and I loved watching the clouds and birds fly by thru the celling the architecture was a huge reason I was ever even intreseted in this place, and im glad I was because being here and getting to really look out these windows is an entirely other thing. The bus doesnt come til 7 so normally I just walk around campus for a bit; try to really get the full experience I wanna make sure theres no part I miss. Back home dinner maybe a movie then straight to bed for tommorow you guessed it back to work again. *wakes up paniced* Oh no my alarm didnt go off the power must have gone out last night. I dont even have enough time to shower ill need to just grab something from the cafe for breakfast.... which unfortunately means today no stopping for roses. I get off at the 'correct' stop (I have to say it like that because while yeah techincally its the right one, it feels soooo wrong). 5:05 straight to the cafe I should have just enough time. I go for the first thing I see which is the muffin station and I even grab myself a cookie, today might not be so bad... I got the last one, lucky me. Clock in still 5:25 and im starting to feel much more alright. Three hours in and thats when my site draws in, I forgot the commity was gonna come in! Three weeks out of winter break, these banners say "give santa a break, give your professors the cake" - which to me doesnt make much sense, I correlate santa alot more with cookies but for rhymes sake I dont speak up- instead out of hunger and now craving I happily begin to enjoy my cookie (its santas face; how ironic). They pull out this string of lights and I hadnt even thought to check but when they first plug in the green lights and then the red we waited a second but nothing had happened yet. So then I remember my alarm didnt ring right. I went in back to switch on the breaker and yay I got to help them turn on the lights! The red are my favorite but the green shine so bright Im lucky I get to be the librarian am I right?! (the only correct answer is: yes).
By Ashley4 years ago in Fiction
Oblivion
I can hear him. I can hear him all the time, and I think it would drive me insane if I didn’t miss him so much. I can hear him when I’m grocery shopping on Thursday in the middle of the afternoon, picking up fresh-cut ham despite it being ridiculously overpriced and milk that I know will spoil too soon. I can hear the affectionate smile in his voice as he whispers in my ear, applauding my choice in deli meat (honey ham, cut an inch less than sandwich thin). I tell myself that that’s how I like it, that he hasn’t seeped so far into my mind that I can longer make seemingly simple decisions like how thick my ham should be cut without wondering: how would he like it? I tell myself this because the alternative is devastating; I love him, but I love myself even more. Perhaps I am selfish, but I want nothing more than to believe I can stay wholly immune to his psyche, to be utterly uninfluenced by him even as I watch him absorb pieces of my own identity. I feel his breath against my ear as he asks me—slyly, softly, a mere murmur the passersby miss—if I want to play a game.
By Cassie4 years ago in Fiction
Soulful Depth.
A soul's journey starts in the same energy every time. Green behind the ears determined to discover and explore. The beginning always compares to the green man's power over the world, they both hold an ancient longing to grow. In its youth the soul's journey is magical. It leads to a mythical land and lives only the hero's journey. They walk in the moonbeams and just know for certain that the moon is surely made of green cheese. They plant ideas, hopes and dreams with the freedom of the green thumb. Powerful and intoxicating pull a young soul has on its surroundings. Unlimited options, optimistic laughter dances in the eyes of young soul. Oh, how this greenhorn is in for a massive world-shattering awakening.
By Crystal Wolf4 years ago in Fiction
Order of the Heart
Marie drove her little SUV across the farmers' field near the Agassiz Bridge. Tess sat in the passenger seat with her binoculars, scanning the edge of the houses as they approached the town. They were on a simple assignment, go to the large nursing home and look for medical supplies in the upper floor pharmacy.
By Bruce Curle `4 years ago in Fiction
A Light in the Night
As they bumped along down the dirt road further into the green forest, Emily couldn’t help but think how far from home they were. She had spent her entire 9 years in New York and was used to those city smells, sounds, and sights. Now, here she was thousands of miles away heading into the heart of Ireland and the woods of Glenfarme. Her family had come over to celebrate Emily's great grandmother’s one hundredth birthday with a gathering of the Clan, and a chance to meet the Irish side of her family. She should be excited, but all Emily really wanted to do was go home.
By Janet Freedland4 years ago in Fiction
Green Dinosaurs
My mom and I chased down Sinclair gas stations like an orgastic beacon of light. Not sure if you’ve ever been to one, so allow me to paint you a slight word picture. Their company colors are the kind of classic Christmas you see on the Tabasco sauce and Hormel chili logos. Their company mascot is a green Brontosaurus named DINO - and all of these facts are some of Mama’s favorite things in life.
By Erin Lucas4 years ago in Fiction
The Heart of the Forest
Tonight I had such a strange encounter that I must write it down, though I swore to tell nobody. It is not as though I can scarcely believe it, for here is a twig in my hair and tomorrow morning I’m sure I will find the forest dirt on my boots by the door.
By Ellie Baker4 years ago in Fiction
The Fruit of the Tree
[ The conversation between the pear and the nutmeg tree. ] “They had it all wrong. Someone told the story wrong. It should have been pear tree, not nut tree!”
By Santari Green4 years ago in Fiction
Go-Fever
I don’t regret what I said, but I do regret that I was powerless to do anything. That damned car should have never raced that day and maybe young Jack Hamilton would have got his hands on the world championship. Tragedy is not when we all say something is meant to be, it's when what should happen is cruelly taken away from us.
By Paul Armstrong4 years ago in Fiction