Series
Cordelia And The Magical, Mysterious, Links
It was a Saturday in September when I woke up to see the oddest of things, a tiny little fairy, was floating over my head. I laid there, frozen, from the shock of seeing Tinkerbell floating above me. This couldn't be real, I thought to myself, as the tiny little lady hovered around, looking down on me as she descended to landing on my chest. I honestly thought I was losing my mind. How could something like this be real?
By Jason Ray Morton 5 years ago in Fiction
What Did Jashawn Kazo Do for his Mom?
“He was just rationally selfish,” Detective Kalina Crews explained. “He looked out for all his values,” she told the Daily Delaware when they asked about Jashawn Kazo. In the hours between 11 p.m. and 2 a.m. the high school graduate who excelled on his basketball team was struck down by over seventy rounds.
By Skyler Saunders5 years ago in Fiction
Bulls & Bullies
Two photos rested on the kitchen table –the small plastic Polaroid being held by the large metal frame below it. She had put the frame in my hands after sharing her theory with me, but its weight quickly tumbled from my grip. She caught it, before it could fall, and discarded it onto the table’s surface to hold my hands in hers. Her eyes, older than mine, held my gaze as he reached out a hand to place on my shoulder. In the past, the touch of any many could cause me to crumble and retreat, but I felt an unfamiliar form of safety from his touch. I took in a deep breath, and was finally able to sigh it back out with a steady chest.
By Maeple Fourest5 years ago in Fiction
The Chronicles of Verspania pt.4
The next morning, Iris visited Time to return one of her books she had borrowed. It was called The Flight of The Purple Doves and it was about a group of rebels who overthrow a tyrant in a magical world. It wasn’t the type of book Iris usually enjoyed but it was Time’s favourite so Iris finally gave in and read it. Through the meadow and past the blackberry thickets, Iris made her way to the cottage. She pushed open the garden gate and knocked twice on the unlocked door to announce herself. Unlike normal, she couldn’t hear Time busy in the kitchen or fiddling around with her clocks. The cottage was ghostly quiet and Time was nowhere to be seen. Iris heard a quiet sobbing coming from Time’s bedroom. It was a small room, which was painted a periwinkle blue and was covered in bookshelves and it had a small wardrobe and desk in the left hand corner. The desk chair was facing the bed and Time was curled up in a small ball on it. She had tears streaming down her face and her sleeves were soggy from wiping her tears away. Iris dropped the book and ran over to her. Time didn’t acknowledge Iris’ arrival until she sat on the bed opposite her. She pulled her close and held her in her arms like a small child. Helpless with nowhere to go to. Time let herself be held in Iris’ arms. It felt odd as Iris was so much younger yet so mature. When Iris asked what was wrong, Time slowly pointed to a crumpled photograph on the bedside table.
By Bel Mellor5 years ago in Fiction
The Box
Lexi sighed as she stared at herself in the full length mirror. Her hair was wrapped in a flowery turban, matching dress with long, flowing skirt and sleeves, and a cincher nearly cutting off circulation at her waist. This is what her next client expected, along with the crystal ball already sitting on a table downstairs. “Stefan, are you here?”
By Jay Villin5 years ago in Fiction
How I Spent my Summer Holiday
Grandma sat silently, holding her coffee cup in one hand, and drumming her fingers on the table with the other. Isabelle and I stared at her, not daring to move, wondering what was going to happen next. I was just about to say I was sorry I opened the parcel when she stood up.
By Gail Wylie5 years ago in Fiction
A Chance Meeting
Lucille sat down on the overturned log in the clearing. The sun would be setting in a few minutes. Already, the sky was dashed with shades of purple and pink against the darkening blue. Once the moon rose, Lucille would not have to wait long for her lover to arrive.
By Liliana Cresswell5 years ago in Fiction
The Dark Phoenices
Myra was 12 years old when the package came. It was a strange brown box, all wrapped in paper with five or six holes punched out the top. Papá had gotten ones like it from the hatchery, but they were cardboard and more put-together like. Aún, she could hear the faint peeps coming through the holes. She shrugged, scooped it under one arm, and took it to her papá.
By Elizabeth Noyes5 years ago in Fiction
