Excerpt
Black Moon
He was born when the Sun wrestled Gemini and fiery Leo loomed on the horizon. The stars never promised him much, the way he saw it. Maybe they held the backdrop of the universe in place, or maybe they were random balls of gas floating around waiting to collide. Maybe they were the whispered secrets of the gods, complex codes for understanding the past and predicting the future, but he found that theory amusing, at best.
By Christa Leigh5 years ago in Fiction
An Apple A Day
My grandma packed my grandfather’s lunch everyday, and mine when the time came for me to go to school. Usually, a turkey and cheese sandwich, his with mayo and mine without, a bag of potato chips, an apple and two quarters settled at the bottom. I bought a soda with those quarters on the first day of school of each school year to establish myself, set the tone. Most kids in school didn’t pack soda, mainly juice boxes or water, if their mom was a health freak. I was one of the only kids who had a soda. I would stop at the corner store on the walk to school, buy a can, and reveal it at the lunch table, you would think I pulled a bunny out of my hat based on the reactions.
By R.A. Moseley5 years ago in Fiction
Morning Prayer
MORNING PRAYER: ‘I don’t want to write anymore!’ I said pounding my fists into the ground, scratching my fingernails into the cement like dirt. ‘I just need to get to China’. I punched the yard and pushed the empty liquor bottles away from me and fell to my knees, bent over, praying to the east. Clawing my way to freedom.
By Craig Johnson5 years ago in Fiction
The odd quirk
Obsideon woke up to urgent pounding on the front door. “Mr. Brown? It’s Unice and Garry from next door.” Obsideon groaned, he felt as if he’d been ambushed by a cheap bottle of vodka. He inched his hands along his face, gauging the damage, his eyes smarted when he got to his left temple, damage was minimal, but it still hurt like a…
By Creice Vere Emrin Valeti5 years ago in Fiction
The Hidden Secrets and Metatron's Gift!
"Come Harmonia", Beckha ushered as the white crested sea eagle, flew above her. She noticed Harmonia held a suspicious package wrapped in brown paper in the grip of his talons. Beckha was out in her garden, communing and singing with her adornment of trees, flowers, and birds on that sunny yet fresh morning when Harmonia appeared. It was the light breeze that came up and brushed past her when she looked up and saw Harmonia approaching. In her garden, Beckha knew there was nothing more beautiful than her own creation of heaven, here a place where she could just lay in the arms of nature and everything she touched, smelt, tasted and felt was blissful beauty and whispers of The Beloved’s love. She delighted in orgasmic wonder as Harmonia circled and circled, each circle like the gentle caress of The Beloved’s hand across her beckoning body. Beckha watched as Harmonia descended toward her, their eyes gazing deep, Harmonia seeming determined, like Beckha was his next prey. However, Beckha knew Isaiah 40:28-31, and there were many rooms in my father’s house, to which Beckha lived now, all from the safety of her heart; she knew she was safe as Harmonia got closer and closer. Beckha smiled as Harmonia swerved just missing her, as he gracefully swooped to the side. The suspicious package dropping right before her feet. Beckha then laughed, "I've missed you Harmonia". Harmonia was Beckha's ally and messenger of the higher realms, however this suspicious package wrapped in brown paper, were not usually how messages arrived.
By Rebecca Clarkson5 years ago in Fiction
Meditations After The End Of The World
Together the crone and I walked in country by sea an afternoon late that summer. Having left through a pass in the southern hills we started out not long after dawn. The sun in our eyes and harsh bearing upon us. Along past the winding hills turned northeast down a disserviced road; an hour later cleared a wooded area, diverged onto a rubble backroad and started coming back closer to the water.
By James B. William R. Lawrence5 years ago in Fiction
Death by Howling Chocolate
Unfortunately, Clay came back later that day with a warrant and a state trooper. I saw the red dot on his dashboard and warned daddy and Big Paw not to do anything. They both went in separate vehicles without a fuss. Clay came to talk to me because he thought I would "understand" his situation better than momma or Mimi.
By Kathy Saunders5 years ago in Fiction
A Classic Crime
How could I be sad while eating chocolate cake? I mean, isn't that against the law? Not the law of the land, I mean the laws of nature itself. I could see Mother Nature herself reaching her hand out of the ground and squashing me right here. There would be a booming voice saying, "For the wages of breaking my laws is death." That mother is beautiful, but she is tough.
By David Brandy5 years ago in Fiction
Hot Cocoa
I was raised on my family farm caring for the animals and I learned to love and respect them. When she was just a babe, I would sit in the stall with our newest racehorse, Hot Cocoa who was born my first Christmas home. She would lay down next to me and put her head on my lap. She's a very affectionate philly. She loved to nibble my ears and tug on my hair. As she got older, and I would rub under her chin and neck, she would rest her head on my shoulder. Now that she’s 14.8 hands, she likes to rest her head on the top of my head while I scratch under her chin.
By Susan Kulkowitz5 years ago in Fiction
To Die For
To Die For My serotonin levels are through the roof! I honestly cannot be any happier if I tried, thanks to this triple decker chocolate cake no doubt, I tried a dozen times and have not mastered the art that is my grandmother’s recipe. Seriously, this cake is to die for! And that is exactly what happened all thanks to my selfishness, I’m brought out of my memories by the baker asking if I wanted a slice of the free triple decker chocolate cake on special today. I almost puke myself simply because I can’t think of anything more repulsive than that cake, I’d eat fried worms off the side of the road before I eat another piece of chocolate cake or anything chocolate for that matter. I look at him in disgust and shake my head no all while trying to keep this huge lump of vomit down, I’m sure he’s labeled me as weird by now, because who doesn’t love chocolate, I might be the only one in the world who doesn’t like chocolate simply by choice and I never will, I don’t deserve to be happy and I surely don’t want the memories of my grandmother’s ill fate coming back to me.
By Shannon Nowell5 years ago in Fiction
