Short Story
The Story of a Woodland Gator Reptile
The Story of a Woodland Gator Reptile As I take a late spring, early morning walk at the edge of the woods not distant from the rivulet in southern Middletown, it feels like an extravagance to drink within the sounds of this environment. I note the reproving cackles of several blue jays within the oaks. They show up to be troubled at the location of a combine of crows as they close the jay's homes. To differentiate the cacophony over, the smooth sounds of the river welcome me to come closer. As I arrive at a clearing, a Timberland Gator Lizard is sitting as still as a stone within the daylight. This is often the moment I have seen this month! Needing to observe this slippery and long-bodied animal I step ever closer. Each step I take could be a supplication:
Abdul QayyumPublished a day ago in FictionLose-lose
When I woke up, I tried to put my leg behind my head and lick my arsehole. Again. Don't get me wrong, I was glad to be back in the physical world, where things were solid and mostly made sense. But it felt heavy and weird coming back to this large body after spending so long as a dainty little feline.
L.C. SchäferPublished a day ago in FictionRoselea
In the fabled Kingdom of Marden, a Queen named Roselea the Great reigned. Her rule, a tapestry woven with excellence and kindness, was akin to a mother hen tending to her chicks. The people of Marden, in unison, hailed her as the greatest ruler in their history and, perhaps, in all of history.
Mother CombsPublished 2 days ago in Fictionlife in a foreign contry
Once upon a time, there was this dude named Alex. He packed up his bags, kissed his mom goodbye, and decided to jet off to a foreign land. Why? Well, he figured life could use a bit of spice, you know?
Andika PutraPublished 2 days ago in FictionName Your Wish, Grant a Curse
A bell charmed when He Xin entered. Low-hanging lights cast a warm amber around the restaurant. He Xin walked over to the menu propped up on a stand while she scanned the bar situated at the back. Besides a lone customer sitting at her own table, the restaurant and even the bar were empty, which was just what He Xin needed. She looked down to flip through the menu.
andy liliesPublished 2 days ago in FictionThe sweet truth about dark chocolate
The sweet truth about dark chocolate Dark chocolate is a delicious and nutritious treat that has been enjoyed for centuries. It is made from the roasted and ground seeds of the cacao tree, and it is rich in antioxidants and other beneficial compounds. In recent years, there has been a growing body of research suggesting that dark chocolate may have a number of health benefits, including:
Mohamed Sobhy MorsyPublished 2 days ago in FictionI'm sorry
Written for Christy Munson's unofficial Microfiction Challenge: 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡
Edgar's Vigil
A lone figure sat on the sand watching the sun slowly sink below the horizon. He was prepared to wait here all through the cold night if it meant even a single moment with her.
Alice ElizabethPublished 2 days ago in FictionEchoes in the silence
In the nightfall of a destroyed dream, I wander through the shadows of my mind, Where resonations mumble advantaged experiences, calmed and faint,
Rony SutradarPublished 2 days ago in FictionThe Horrifying Stories Behind the Disney Classics
Do you recall a recent moment when you have grown to be a bit older, well above the age when you would watch your favorite Disney classic with difficulty tying your shoelace by yourself?Tightly hugging your mom, she sat next to you on the sofa and her face expressed expressions of both joy and disgust. And also, it was a very challenging time, when you were in the mode of “Doing everything yourself. ”Such were those seemingly unending days that littered my mind with countless memories and tails.
Amine OubihPublished 2 days ago in FictionWhat's Cooking?
Introduction This is for Christy Munson's May Challenge that you can read about below. The music is "Tears" by The Stone Roses
Mike Singleton - MikeydredPublished 2 days ago in FictionThe Mercenary's Miscalculation
Aethel nursed a lukewarm mug of unidentified, vaguely green liquid in his cramped quarters aboard the sputtering freighter. Rain lashed against the hull, drumming a monotonous rhythm. This wasn't quite the high life he'd envisioned after leaving the Chapter. He craved the camaraderie, the purpose, the roar of bolter fire. Here, he was just another weathered mercenary, another cog in the mercenary machine.
Carlos BorbaPublished 2 days ago in Fiction