Fable
The Owl Who Had No Hoot
Jerry was a loner. An outcast. Ever since he opened his sharp brown beak to speak, he knew he wasn't like the other owls. This made him dread the long, warm summer nights. His family would gather with the neighboring owls, all nestled together high in the rafters of an enormous abandoned barn outside the city lights. And they would hoot. And hoot. And hoot.
By Jacaranda C.4 years ago in Fiction
Crimson and White
On a night colder than any in memory, somewhere on the backroads of an old New England countryside, a man traveled home to a small, unnamed town where white smoke billowed from brick chimney tops. On the eve of a winter holiday, families gathered inside their dwellings, held up from the nips of cold air and whips of sharp wind blustering outside. The man, instead, drove alone through a bleak and dreary scene far from there, his only companion an old, clunking, dilapidated green car that had seen many years past its prime.
By Charles W. Vincent4 years ago in Fiction
Gus Finds His Purpose
Gus Finds His Purpose Hi, my name is Gus. I am a Golden Retriever. It’s been two years, four months, and one day that I’ve been living with my family and Maddie, my best friend. It’s the end of the summer. Birds are singing and squirrels are running up and down the maple trees. I feel the warm sunbeams on my fur as I sleep on my bed. Life is good. “Gus, it’s time to get up. Today we are going to Dog School,” said Mom. Dog School, oh boy! I have been waiting a lifetime to go to Dog School. What do I need, Mom? My stuffed pig, my ball, how about my fancy bandana? “Hop into the car, Gus. Today, you only need a leash.”
By Karen Nicksich4 years ago in Fiction
Walking Legend
Metallic thwangs pervaded Gørgon's dreams, each conjured image set to the same metronome. He grew anxious in its absence. T’was Yorne, knelt by yesternight’s fire, tending a series of swords with hammerhead. One hand struck metal on metal and the other, a banded twist of twigs serving for lost limb, held each blade between his knees. He did not sleep, far as Gørgon could tell. His arm of bark made him kin to the earth, and neither slept a wink.
By Michael Acciarino4 years ago in Fiction
The Owlet's Reflections
Lispy surveyed his surrounding area, as the moonlight caught a glimpse of his white feathered body. Lisby lived in a tall oak forest, with a river trickling past. He lived in what should have been his paradise and his forest usually had a thick blanket of snow covering the landscape and tree tops. Lispy’s stomach grumbled. He must scavenge for food. His eyes darted from tree to tree, trying to spot easy prey, and this led him to a mouse in the distance. In one foul swoop, he took the mouse and brought it back to his tall oak tree. The next night, Lispy was trying to catch fish. He wanted to be recognised as a fierce bird, who should not be reckoned with…a creature to be reckoned with when passing through his forest.
By Michelle Haupt4 years ago in Fiction
Mr. and Mrs. Squirrel, Owl, and the Sycamore Tree
Mr. and Mrs. Squirrel, Owl, and the Sycamore Tree. By: Caleb Branam A certain owl set out one day for new lands. This was a particular barn owl who tired of his drafty barn, its rustic setting and meager offerings. In truth no barn in the world would be enough. No place ever would, Owl suffered from one of the most powerful curses ever known. Owl wanted more. Always he wanted more, and his cunning and power were such, that what he could not achieve by guile, he took by force. Driven by ego and insatiable avarice Owl took wing in search of more, and more, and more. After many days and nights of flight he came to a sprawling city. Owl soared above the snow-capped rooftops until at length he found a church. Weary from the journey he landed on the steeple and took in the scene below.
By Caleb Branam4 years ago in Fiction
The Mood Phoenix Barn Owl
Jasper, the King's hound, was circling this strange building, which was surrounded by acres of hay. And with every move Jasper made, you'd hear the dead grass of the hay crackle beneath his paws. "Izabelle, where are you?!" Jasper called to his masters second "hound-in-command". He heard the fast rustling of the hay crackling, and the sound was rushing in his direction! He quickly turned himself in defense towards the obvious sound. He began to growl as it rapidly continued to rush towards him. Finally, at just a few feet in front of him. He barked and pounced. Both hounds hit each other and bounced back in a defensive stance. "AHAHAHAHA, YOU'RE PRETTY GOOD JASPER, I LIKE THAT!!" Izabelle was intrigued,only because she had finally caught him off guard. "It's all about using your surroundings to your advantage." she continued. "Wow, Iz, you really listen to the King don't you? He always says that!" Jasper was a little surprised. Even in his voice, you could tell. "But we should be a little quiet," he said "we're coming up on the abandoned shed!" Though they were already there, Jasper really meant that, now, they were headed inside.
By Justin K Wade4 years ago in Fiction
And the Sunflowers Wept
BOOM. The night’s storm hurled lightning across the skies, a great clasp of thunder following with all the wrath of a spurned god. It lit up the whole of the forest ever so briefly, from the crown of the canopies to the underbrush’s underside. It was gone as soon as it came, and the world was darkened by the raging tempest once more. It was far from the first bolt released that night, and she knew it would not be the last. Still, she was alert, on one of the taller branches topped by a roof of thicker fronds. The howling gales made it so the droplets would shoot at her proudly, puffed-up chest, but her eyes remained dry and vigilant.
By Gonzalo de Castro Sucre 4 years ago in Fiction
Castle McDermott
A shrill cry echoes in the night. Candlelight illuminates Freya's face from across the room. Looking into my sister’s wide eyes, I know she heard it too. I hear shuffling from somewhere inside the cottage, footsteps on the floor, light moving its way closer to the door frame.
By Kelsey Kidder4 years ago in Fiction
