Mystery
Instructions for Saving the World
For the first few seconds, there was only a sound, like the fizz of a firecracker as it nears absolution. Then, a pillar of color erupted into the sky in an imitation of the aurora borealis, illuminating the field around it. Finally, there was darkness. Only the moon and its children of stars illuminated the grassy hill in the middle of East Texas. A series of “moos” and stampeding hooves filled the night, growing softer and quieter as the cattle retreated to a safe distance.
By Ethan J Bearden5 years ago in Fiction
Who Are You?
“Who are you?’ She said. A look of confusion in her eyes. I tried to see through them. Read her face and read what was going through her mind. There was no real emotion behind those deep green eyes. The kind of green that floated between emerald and moss green depending on the light. The kind of green eyes that have witnessed more than it should have in it’s time.
By Jason Strange5 years ago in Fiction
Eastern Airlines Flight 1155
In September 1963, at around five in the evening, 149 passengers and crew boarded Eastern Airlines Flight 1155. It was a large crowd for a flight that was usually pretty empty, except for around the holidays. There was a scout convention being held in Los Angeles that weekend and several troops from the Dallas/Ft Worth area were on board, along with the usual business types and miscellaneous travelers. The flight originated in Dallas and was to contain a short layover in Denver. They were scheduled for a final destination of Los Angeles. Their flight was due in late.
By Sean Rohrer5 years ago in Fiction
The return
It was a sizzling hot day. The overheated streets of Granada were empty. Only rare passing taxis disturbed the silence, leaving clouds of raised dust behind. Slowly, Vasio climbed up the street. His shirt was creased and covered with dust. Drops of sweat showed through on his neck. Vasio had already regretted his decision to save money on a taxi. From the railway station to the hotel where he was going to stay it was only a couple of kilometers, but the heat and the steep streets left him completely out of breath.
By Maria Naumova5 years ago in Fiction
We All Had Different Ideas About What to do With The Parcel
It was a lovely afternoon. The dappled sun shone through the trees creating mysterious shadows. The blue sky was dotted with white fluffy clouds that drifted lazily in the gentle breeze. The roads shimmered in the heat of the midday sun. Tiny specks of dust seemed to dance in the shaft of afternoon sunlight that slanted through the window. The weather was overall so good that Catherine, Ivanna, Tom and I decided to play outside. As soon as we went to the playground Tom touched the four of us and said, "Tag you are it!" And then he started to run as fast as his legs could carry him. Catherine bursted out of anger and said, "why does he always do this without any kind of warning?" And the three of us started to chase him with with a devilish smile on our faces.
By Mubassira Mahatab5 years ago in Fiction
The Forest
THE FOREST PROLOGUE The night was dark and the rain was falling lightly on the street, forming small puddles in the cracks of the street. Still, through it all Mitchell could see the moon peeking out from behind the clouds, a good omen he thought. He’d known the old man going on 25 years, the last nine of which he spent as the Don’s “right hand” handling all the dirty work that Don Elliot was too busy for, and for nine years he was overworked and underappreciated. No longer. He had a plan in place, his three most trustworthy friends alongside him, tonight the Don would fall and a new one would take his place. Mitchell finished his cigarette and threw it on the ground, he could see his reflection in one of the puddles. The years had not been kind to him. He looked much older than his forty-four years. His eyes bloodshot and tired, his beard now more gray than brown, and a scar under his right eye. One of the many sacrifices he had made over the years to a man who was more than happy to exploit his hard work. He didn’t look like the type of man who could lead a group of hardened criminals. He was a stocky man who preferred to dress casually. He wore his favorite brown raincoat to go with his brown dress pants, and brown loafers. A simple outfit for a seemingly simple man, but this simple man had a plan. As he reflected on the years and thought ahead to the work he still had to do, he saw his closest ally, Vincent, crossing the street to meet him. Vincent was a tall, thin man with short, clean-cut hair. No matter the situation, Vincent always seemed to have a smile on his face, his perfect teeth shining through in every situation. At times, Mitchell found that smile comforting, and at other times, terrifying. Vincent, as usual, dressed his best. He looked sharp with his black raincoat over his perfectly tailored suit with a dark red tie.
By David Hanrahan5 years ago in Fiction
