Fable

Water
As a boy, I lived close to a raging river. If I kept my bedroom window open at night I could hear the waters tumbling over and over as they roared and rumbled into infinity, for not a half mile from my home an enormous waterfall thundered over a high cliff forming a deep swirling pool of dark water on the rocks below. This river was said to be fed by a hundred streams.
By Dan Glover4 years ago in Fiction
Adeline and the Wind
“Adeline!”, my mother called “Come back, it’s almost time for lunch.” The wind was also calling, “Adeline the primrose is blooming, and Mrs. Rabbit has had her babies!” I took one look back at my mother and smiled widely. She put her hands on her hips and smiled back. She didn’t like to admit it, but she could hear the wind too. “Go!” she whispered, “Congratulate Mrs. Rabbit for me.”, but she demanded loudly. “Be home before the sun sets Adeline, not one minute late!”
By Sue C4 years ago in Fiction
Reciprical
Once upon an equation there lived a ratio and his integer who were very unhappy because they didn't have any decimals. These good polyhedrons had a little remainder in the back of their pentagon which looked into the most lovely perimeter, full of all manor of beautiful hexagons and prisms but the perimeter was surrounded by a high line segment, and no one dared to enter it, for it belonged to a fraction of great power, who was feared by one whole sphere.
By Michelle Mackenzie4 years ago in Fiction
Uppers and Downers
UPPERS AND DOWNERS The Uppers lived in a village on the hill, name of Upsville. The sun always shone there, always plenty of birds and corn. They laughed a lot, because life was good. There was fresh water nearby, lots of food and they could always have a good time.
By robert fisherman4 years ago in Fiction
A Special After School Message
Peering back to where she was learning not even an hour ago the ways of the world Airine combatted the deathly chill wearing two parka jackets filled with deep pockets.
By Marc OBrien4 years ago in Fiction
Hotel Yesterday
by: Dennis R. Humphreys (the Dream Writer) Maxwell Fields, at sixty-six, wasn't altogether happy with his life. He retired, but he arrived there, taking a dozen or more detours thought his working career, after graduating college. None of his jobs were what you'd call successful, hindsight is always better than foresight. Looking back, he could see the paths he took in error. Life might have been different if he had taken one of the other avenues he had been exposed to. Then again it might not have been but in his mind, he would have been better taking one of the other courses.
By Dennis Humphreys4 years ago in Fiction
Girl-in-White
Once, far away and long ago, there was a little family, who lived just beyond the dark pine forest, and it included only a mother, dressed all in red, and a pretty little daughter of no-more than twelve, dressed all in white. They lived in a little cottage, with only room enough for two. The mother-in-red wanted no more children, but she had grown an apple tree in the garden in the front of the house, which held apples only she would pick.
By Minte Stara4 years ago in Fiction
A Strong Poetic Triangle
Only a few weeks ago the setting outside a rural area’s magnet school where adolescents are pulled together creating a strong bond felt the holiday greeting image transform into bitter reality. Once filled with glowing joy the giving attitude was exchanged to taking using force.
By Marc OBrien4 years ago in Fiction
The Night Owl Express
Isabella stepped out from the overcrowded studio apartment and into the dim lit hallway leading to the stairwell. She could feel the chill of the Northern air fighting its way through the grimy interior walls of the building. As she walked, she dialed the number of a taxi service she found on a business card. Heavy and well-crafted, the card stood out to her for some reason other than its quality. She read the name out loud, just barely above a whisper, as she pushed the cumbersome door leading to the outside.
By Daniel Maulvain4 years ago in Fiction
The Lonely Book
The Lonely Book by Richard Naviasky Once upon a time there was a book on a shelf in a house where a man and woman lived who didn’t ever read. And the book was lonely. So one morning when the man and woman were away from the house, the book slid off the shelf and flapped its front and back covers like a bird it had read about in its pages. But the book, it turned out, couldn’t fly. So, using its front and back covers like legs, the book jumped from a chair to a table to a windowsill, then out an open window.
By Richard Naviasky4 years ago in Fiction
The Passing of Time
He already knew he was in trouble when he escaped his chores to take a quick dip in the nearby stream that bordered his village. He was certain of this though as soon as he saw the middle-aged woman huffing and puffing down the lane, her face flushed as she ranted to herself about naughty boys and flogging would be too good.
By Carol Nemes aka TigerSpirit4 years ago in Fiction
Hero's Conundrum/Chapter 11
This time I woke up as usual, covered in blood, I think I had a heart attack, so I continue the routine and when I went to clean myself. I saw myself in the reflection of the river that I was the Marduk I remember. I’m full of energy but I need to find out when I am. The only way to do that is to look for the camps we have been. If I knew where Sarah’s village is I could go, I need to talk to her, she needs to know that I know. I don’t know why they were keeping this from me. Ok I remember the last camp but is like forty kilometers from here. This is frustrating, knowing that I have all this abilities and that I can only use them instinctively. I hate it. I started running towards the camp and even though I’ve been running for an hour I don’t feel tired. I need to concentrate, try to trigger that speed, that strength. Then it happened, I start running extremely fast and I arrived in less than ten minutes, which would have taken hours. Impressive.
By Angel Delgado4 years ago in Fiction