Fantasy

A While to Find you
Sophia felt the mist of slumber slowly evaporate as early morning rays flickered over the tops of her closed eyelids. She remained semi unconscious as long as possible trying to chase a dream already lost to oblivion. A tingling sensation lingered at the centre of her forehead. She raised a hand to it and winced. What the hell? She thought. She swung her legs over and looked into the vanity mirror only to notice a small burn mark right between her eyebrows.
By sylvana lee-jones5 years ago in Fiction
Moorish Pie
Once in the realm of Albion was the kingdom of silver sun. Wend-bloom was its name oft sung by peasant, lord, and merchant tongue. Uriah Wend was its sovereign, who was the mold of squarish chin. His majesty gained the height of praise, in his lord’s holy crusade. When returned they did parade, and he did bed the fairest maid. All girls his Queen bore to him, and hopes of heir became quite slim. This grieved the King in Albion, and for years he labored for a son. To no avail did effort yield, that masculine form to be revealed. So shunned he felt, Wend Majesty, by his lord of Galilee. So he bequeathed power to air, and its prince from gale did hear.
By Brian Keith McMurray5 years ago in Fiction
Vessels (Part 1)
Seven years had passed since the embalmer raised the dead, and now it was time to send them out west after all their hard work. It was only right and proper.
By Rachael Dunn5 years ago in Fiction
Letters from a Small Town Wizard
Remove the following letters from general correspondence and forward them to the Department of Mystery for future investigation: J2-116A, J2-116B, and J2-116C. In addition, package J2-116D is to be held in an antimagic containment vault. Label them as low priority as the situation appears to have solved itself.
By K. Rhen Hunt5 years ago in Fiction
Don't Lose Your Head
“How much does an average human head weigh?” What a thing to find myself Googling. All these years after the fact. At twelve years old I took the brown wrapped package from her without hesitation, and delivered it where she asked me to. For most of my life i didn’t even question it, not even curious about what it contained. Because it honestly never occurred to me that the box might have been kind of … head shaped.
By Michelle Mead 5 years ago in Fiction
The House on The Corner
The house on the corner was not always bright buttercup yellow. Once there were just plain red bricks. Then someone put up cladding and sprayed it grey.
By Barbara Burgess5 years ago in Fiction
Like a Dream
The summer air was still and balmy. It lingered with an encompassing warmth that brought a subtle sheen to the skin of those basking within it. The golden light that streamed through the large clear glass windows refracted into a soft rainbow that lay across the wooden floorboards. It was the unique and precious light of the precise moment of a day caught between afternoon and dusk; where the earth is bathed in an ethereal glow, and the sky is washed with shades of delicate blue, with only a whisper of the vibrant pinks and bright oranges that the sunset will bring. Sunset would not come for a while yet, and its delay held the bruised and sombre sky of twilight at bay. The nymphs tightened the dress around the woman’s waist, tugging firmly on the lace strings of the corseted back. Their laughter chimed around the room like delicate bells, soft and tinkling, and the scent of their perfume oil was heavy in the summer air. It was lavender, rose, and sweet orange, and it bathed the air in vibrant violets, oranges, and pinks. The nymphs wove blue violets and rosemary through her hair; violets for adoring love, and rosemary for enduring grief. The earthy scent of the rosemary coloured the air with a tone that was just a little bit deeper. The hem of her dress dusted the tops of her feet, and its train flowed breezily behind her. The lace lay soft upon her shoulders, and dipped down gracefully across her back and chest. It was a soft cream colour, but in the beautiful sunlight it glowed golden yellow.
By Eva Joyce5 years ago in Fiction
Eleanor, Elise, and the Chocolate Cake
There once was a mother who gave birth to a beautiful girl. For years she held the child, only cooing and staring deeply into her eyes; worry from their harsh slants melted with her smile, that of a truly happy, and healthy baby. Her child grew, and she could not see the sideways stares, soft whispers, wandering eyes trying not to stare. She only saw the sun, the birds, her happy baby’s laugh sprinkling the air with glittering diamonds, or maybe that was the rain showering the duo on walks. Her daughter grew healthy and strong, and so talented. Elise had an affinity for mixing color on canvas. Their home was filled with paper and paint from age 2, completed before a nice long walk to allow the paint to dry.
By Sara Smith5 years ago in Fiction
A Little Slice of Heaven
Darren usually didn’t struggle with traveling for work but this particular trip had been draining. The clients had seemed perfectly satisfied with everything during the development phase but once he presented the proposal in person they found nothing but flaws. He had worked on the project for three months and now he was going to have to start all over again. It was nothing less than infuriating.
By Christine Nelson5 years ago in Fiction
A Fairy Good Birthday
Nearly a month had passed with no opportunity to go to the barn, and Teri was desperate to visit the magical worlds found inside. For years she had avoided that old place; the stories of it being haunted kept everyone away. That all changed when Rodrigo moved into the house by the barn. He had explored the wonders inside many times, having never been tainted by the fears associated with it. He and Teri became great friends from their first meeting. He had invited her to the barn a couple of times before he was finally able to convince her it really was safe. He had tried to tell her how magnificent it was, but she didn’t understand until she went inside and saw the wonders herself.
By Viltinga Rasytoja5 years ago in Fiction
The Witch's Castle
I recently learned that if you wish to have something done, you have to do it yourself. Elizabeth Lockheart is my name. I live in the magical kingdom of Winsbore, ruled by King Fredrick, and Queen Sebrina. Now there’s a funny story about the queen, however. Queen Sabrina was the master of all things magic. No one dared to piss off the witch, for if we did we would soon be turned into toads. Or worse.
By Craiyelle Divine5 years ago in Fiction
Easy Answer
The proceedings were tense, fraught with danger, uncertainty, and the kind of fear that can be tasted. "How do they expect us to eat when no decision has been reached? We are still in danger of annihilation." Tarina hissed to her fellow delegate and brother, Mauritius.
By S.A. Paris 5 years ago in Fiction