Fiction
Old Enough. Top Story - June 2024.
Truth has so many lessons, so many meanings and the lord knows it's a debatable subject when sitting around the supper table. I always make sure I look busy eating; nobody knows what I see in a day. Truth is, I ran straight to the railroad tracks after breakfast this morning, cut through tall, dry, grass where clumps of broken beer bottles and cans swell up on unkempt lots, where people have dumped ole fridge-a-dares, washing machines and just about anything they don't want. I was told never to do such a thing, that is, go to the railroad tracks. By being obedient in other ways, on time for meals, helping carry groceries, running the vacuum cleaner down the long hallway to Paw-Paw's room, well, I earned that big, little, title of "Trust-worthy." Truth is I am trust worthy when it comes down to it; if I hear someone passing hearsay around about Paw-Paw, I correct them or I run home and tell him. So, at the railroad tracks I saw a man drunk at 8.30 in the morning today, a little boy crying with his Mom dragging him behind her with no shoes and some good tires to make swings out of; I have a swing made from wood, but somebody could make a swing if they wanted to. The drunk man looked familiar. I stared at him until he growled; I jumped backwards behind a poison ivy covered oak tree and well, that would draw some attention to me later on, but it shook off that ole smelly hobo for a bit. I am eight and smart but my teacher told Paw-Paw I talk too much; I am fascinated by hobo's. I think about hopping on the back of a real caboose, hanging on like I do at the schoolyard's merry-go-round, screaming my fool head off. I want to see what's out there beyond the sycamore and brow beating summer heat. Paw-Paw loves Jimmy Dean sausage; this afternoon I saw a trailer bed with Jimmy Dean written fancy across it; I almost blew it and told Paw-Paw. That's how much I talk. Learning to be quiet at the supper table is my goal for the summer. Pearl, Paw-Paw's help, sets the table for us and he always tells her to take a plate home for herself. She's pretty with chocolate milk coloured skin that is as smooth as a satin pillow case. When here, she wears her hair pulled back in a small coal bun right at the nape of her neck with a net over it. A little charcoal bun in a net. My hair flies all over the place until the day before school starts up. That's when Pearl takes me into town and has it cut into a pixie with bangs. I don't look forward to that day. For now, summer is endless, miles from here, full of nothing to do day's. Before supper, Pearl always checks me for ticks and hoses me down so I don't track mud in. She is playful with me. I love her; I wonder if Paw-Paw loves her, too. It's lonely sometimes with just me and Paw-Paw; his grand-paw eyes grow heavy after supper and he falls asleep right quick, sprawled out on the gold, plush sofa he snores away and I sneak around the house looking for treasures. I am a tom-cat, meow! I am a spy for "Get Smart" and use radar. Suddenly, I drop down on the floor crawling, I am a hostage escaping through secret tunnels under Paw-Paw's bed; I am a pilot steering my jet over the endless tree tops, beyond the drunken hobo's and rusty, iron train tracks. Whoooa! I can see Pearl shucking corn and singing, I go higher and higher above the midnight street lamps, the moon is full of cheese, smiling by my side; I am soaring until I plop from my parachute into my marshmallow bed where I lay until dawn dreaming.
By ROCK aka Andrea Polla (Simmons)2 years ago in Chapters
Emily
The alarm rang much to early. She wished to stay under her warm blankets but she knew this was her only chance. She silenced it quickly, rolled out of bed and pulled on her boots. Her legs were stiff from sleeping in her jeans. She eased them into movement as she snuck across the house. From the chair she grabbed her bag and in its place she set the letter. As she slipped out the front door her wild mane of long auburn hair bounced behind her. She second guessed the decision to leave like this but she knew conversion would never get anywhere. Her long powerful legs crossed the rocky path effortlessly. In a blink she stood before the barn. Her equine friend barely noted her presences, the saddle, the bridle, but he shifted at her nerves. Soon she stood at the open field, working up to a striding trot she needed some distance before sunrise. The rhythmic bounce of the horse would probably jostle the thoughts of most but she had always found the rhythm like a metronome, it keeps her thoughts in balance and steady. Her breathing aligned and the smell of horse flooded her nostrils. Her athletic arms rested with a loose reign. Everyone in town had noticed she was different despite the effort to blend, to be "normal" but they talked when she walked by. She had learned to ride very quickly because out here she didn't have to hide. Her heart was wild, untamed, and that flame glowed like hot embers in her green eyes. Her hands and feet burned with idleness. Over the last few weeks she had collected all the information she could. Every rumor and every whisper she had heard pointed North, to the mountains. Somewhere within the snow peaks lay clues to where she was from, why she was here, and more importantly what she was. She was finally far enough that she knew no one would follow and no one would know. She let her sweater slide off her arms. She felt the stretch and ache that came with the lack of motion as her wings unfolded from her back, tilting in and out of the wind. Extending out past her open arms the feathers ruffled in the first beaming raise of sun. Freedom in all its majesty.
By Maili Paul2 years ago in Chapters
What if the earth spun 10 times faster?
Crazy right !?????? Imagine suddenly catapulted into a world where days fly by faster than Instagram stories after a concert of cute kittens! Where the sun seems to be playing hide-and-seek with the moon as if they were in the middle of an Olympic marathon. Welcome to this turbo edition of "What if the earth spun 10 times faster?" Fasten your seatbelts (or whatever you can find fast) for a cosmic ride where even snails become Formula 1 drivers.
By ECO-EXPLORERS2 years ago in Chapters
