Fiction
Kollimalai sidhars
Kollimalai, also known as Kolli Hills, is a fascinating mountain range located in the Eastern Ghats of Tamil Nadu, India. Rich in biodiversity and artistic heritage, it has charmed the imagination of locals and trippers likewise for centuries. still, what truly makes Kollimalai interesting are the mystical legends girding it, particularly those involving the Siddhas, deified mystics and yogis of ancient India. The Siddhas, known for their profound wisdom and supernatural powers, are believed to have lived in the remote and serene surroundings of Kollimalai.
vinoth kumarPublished about an hour ago in Chapters- Content WarningAI-Generated
The Final Inferno
In the quiet farming town of Maplewood, life seemed ordinary and peaceful. The streets were lined with cornfields, red barns, and houses that echoed with the laughter of families. Among them lived Liam Turner, a farmer with an unusual gift. Liam could see glimpses of the future hours before it happened—a power he kept secret, fearing the consequences of revealing such an ability.
Z.a.i.n.t.zPublished about an hour ago in Chapters - AI-Generated
The Last Defence
Chapter 1: The Alien Invasion The sky was alight with the hue of destruction. Fires raged in once-bustling cities, and the eerie glow of alien crafts cast long shadows over the devastated landscape. It had been years since the first wave of alien invaders had broken through Earth's defenses. They arrived in sleek, silent ships that seemed to slice through the very fabric of reality. Their purpose was clear: annihilation.
Z.a.i.n.t.zPublished about 3 hours ago in Chapters Interlude 02 | Aestas ¤ The Yellow Balloon
“Lilit, are you even listening anymore?” Ahmad scolded. “Ah, sorry!” the contrite Lilit jumped as she bumped up against her seatbelt. “I got a little lost in my own thoughts about clocks and history and class warfare...”
Porn Again-Part Six
Continued from Part Five… True to his word, Lucky had practically rolled out the red carpet for his brother upon his return to the Big Easy. A few friends all gathered together for a late night pool party on the roof of the building. That nagging sense of melancholy began to pull at him even further. Candy...he still loved her in spite of things.
lazarusInfinityPublished about 16 hours ago in ChaptersOld Enough
I get up early cause I know Pearl will make biscuits, eggs, and crisp bacon and let me lick the warm salty lard with my fingers from the skillet once it cools off. I watch her go "mmmm, mmmm" and squeeze her lips into a smile. She starts the percolator for Paw-Paw, pours me a big glass of ice cold milk and stands over me saying, "drink it down." Pearl always makes hard things seem easy, not so good days feel okay and I wish she were my Momma. We don't look the same but if she asked me to be her child I'd be the luckiest girl alive. She pulls my fingers out of my mouth, " you get worms now, hear me?" I most definitely don't want worms so I am really trying to stop chewing my nails. Pearl's nails are always clean, trimmed, with a clear, shiny gloss. Her lips are full, ripe, like a fresh dark purple plum. She has fine teeth, big hazel eyes and wears tiny gold studs in each earlobe. I want earrings, but the thought of a needle being pushed though my ear doesn't sound like it's worth the trouble, at least right now. I would like some tap shoes though. Pearl laughs when I tell her about my dancing dreams. She says I have happy feet cause I am wiggling my toes all the time. When Paw-Paw goes out on the porch to smoke his pipe I always show him my latest moves. After breakfast, Pearl starts washing our sheets and says there is a dust bunny under my bed. I don't want to look. I scare myself enough just looking at hobos. Anyway, back to the railroad. Just can't help myself. I don't curse, smoke, steal or commit sins that I know of, but I can tell you right here and right now, hobos teach and preach more than any one body needs. I confess I became on friendly terms with a man named Hank. He'd wave and say, " Hey, May! Keep smilin' kiddo!" and he'd sometimes be laying in the shade right calm when I snuck up to see him. He always looked sad just before he caught sight of me. Soon as my big trap started jabbering he'd change like a chameleon. That is, he'd try to make life seem so fine. I new he was hungry. I started taking biscuits on the days I figured he'd be around and he was always obliged. Just like the song, Mr. Bojangles, I began to show off my dancing moves to cheer ole Hank up. How is it we just know someone isn't happy? He laughed and smiled; in my mind he had a harmonica or some groovy steps he'd show me, but he never did. When the rest of the jumpers, as he referred to his fellow train hopping hobos as, came around he'd shoo me off. He told me in a kind, yet tough way to go on home. Where Hank went I never knew; in my heart I liked to hold it was somewhere much better than the hard ass dirt he slept on, full of God only knows what, and lonesome nights with an empty belly and mosquitos. Back home, I'm hosed down. Pearl gives me a hard stare; I am guessing she is guessing where the heck I've been. I am full of cockleburs, red from the sun. She leaves Paw-Paw and me my favourite, whipped cream and orange jello. I always hug her when she heads back to the place she calls home; I will make sure that this summer I follow Pearl like a cat stalks, curious that is, not aiming to find trouble. Late, when Paw-Paw is loving his heap of second helpings from supper, I ease out from my bedroom and stand right in front of the late night news. Paw-Paw's old Grandpa eyes widen and I start dancing; I pretend to tap dance and point my toes toward the ceiling fan, clap my hands and fall onto the thick, Persian patterned carpet. Paw-Paw laughs with his belly bouncing. I guess for now, summer is getting off to a good start. I slink down the long hallway and slither into bed. I wonder where Hank is now; Memphis, Baton Rouge, New Orleans? By now, hobos, I mean, jumpers, could be anywhere. I say out loud as if I am praying, "Goodnight jumper Hank; goodnight Pearl". I wiggle my toes one more time, roll over toward the moon shining through my window and smile.
Potential
This has become a reoccurring behavior, staying up late at night, thinking about someone that might never look my way. But Daniel Achebe was it all, everything I wanted. 99% of us girls in SS2B had a crush on him and I was the least of them all if we were to be rated. Everytime I thought of him a smile unzipped on my face, stretching from cheek to cheek, I wouldn’t even be able to shake off the burning sensation on my face. The feeling is so incredible, I could literally feel electric surges in my vein, my stomach tightening to knots, incredible, just incredible.
Ojiaka DivinePublished about 22 hours ago in ChaptersWeight
If I had to choose one song as the soundtrack of my life, it'd be Bruce Brubaker's "Mad Rush", all 16 minutes and 58 seconds of it on loop. At least for this last year of my life. This year has been full of beauty, drama, confusion, excitement, and tears. Lots and lots of tears. And even now, I can't escape the tears. Every emotion you name I've felt, and Mad Rush captures all of that. That's what I put on before I pull off. I'm not even sure where to go, but I think a ride downtown would at least provide me with lights and a great view.
C. A. ElizabethPublished a day ago in Chapters- Content Warning
Porn Again-Part Five
Continued from Part Four… “I HAVE TO SEE YOU AGAIN. CAN’T WAIT ANY LONGER...MEET ME TONIGHT. YOU KNOW THE PLACE.” The text message vibrating close by sent a surge through her that may not necessarily have been dread or remorse. The smoldering guilt laced with a growing sense of excitement brought out a rather sneaky, yet girlish quality in Candy. Refusing to let on that Marcus was texting her at that very moment, she quickly put the cell away.
lazarusInfinityPublished 3 days ago in Chapters - Content Warning
Porn Again-Part Four
Continued from Part Three… New Orleans. The Big Easy. The Crescent City. Home of some of the greatest music, entertainment and culture the world has ever seen...and baby, there ain’t no place like New Orleans. Quickly swept away into a world far different from the one he’d always known, Happy struggled to relax a bit as the convertible sped off from the airport deep into the heart of ‘Babylon’, as his father referred to it. The blissful, seductive sounds of the city’s famed Jazz music blared from the stereo as the infamous humidity came breathing down on his neck with a stifling cloak of welcoming only a true Southerner could appreciate. Six feet below sea level, and wedged between a river and a lake, the city was well known for its hot summer days and even hotter nights...and things were only going to get hotter from here.
lazarusInfinityPublished 3 days ago in Chapters Decisions
Leaving everyone on the beach to talk amongst themselves I made my way to the cafeteria alone. Feeling my body begin to ache I focused all my strength to keep my shoulders back and head held high. The last thing everyone needs to see is me looking weak. Hearing Nightmare say There had better be more pizza. Was followed by my stomach growling as I reached the steps. Before opening the door I noticed there were people working who couldn't have been guards or scientists. All of them were wearing the same outfits as the rest of us with metallic bracelets. Thinking to myself That actually makes a lot of sense.
Lucy TorralbaPublished 3 days ago in ChaptersOld Enough
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.