Psychological
'long long long' is too long
The silence was one of the things Benjamin cherished most about his village. In most other inhabited places, people contributed to creating a deafening and cacophonous atmosphere, undoubtedly useful for raising spirits or slipping unnoticed through market stalls but not for appreciating those little sounds that Benjamin loved more than anything else. If you had come across a phrase like, "Antiquarian Benjamin Hayes finds the strength to wake up in the morning only because he knows he can enjoy some small noises," back then, it might have been almost entirely true, if not entirely false.
By Alessandro La Martina3 years ago in Fiction
The Unseen Foe
The small town of Willowbrook had always been known for its tranquility. Nestled between rolling hills and surrounded by lush forests, it was the kind of place where everyone knew each other's name, and the pace of life was slow and predictable. However, beneath the surface of this idyllic setting lay a sinister mystery that would shake the town to its core.
By Vico Andiar3 years ago in Fiction
The Enigma of Eldoria. Content Warning.
Chapter 1: The Mysterious Letter In the small town of Oakbrook, nestled deep in the countryside, lived a young orphan named Amelia Evans. She had always felt like she didn't quite belong, but her life was about to change forever. On her thirteenth birthday, Amelia received a peculiar letter, delivered by a wise-looking owl. The envelope bore the crest of Eldoria Academy, a school for gifted individuals with extraordinary abilities.
By Manoj Jayaram3 years ago in Fiction
Midnight Graveyard Walk
Last night I was walking to my old home and decided to take a short cut past the cemetery. Three girls walked up to me and said that they were really scared to walk past the cemetery at night because they were afraid of ghosts, so I agreed to let them walk with me.
By Alex H Mittelman 3 years ago in Fiction
Rugrats and its interesting facts
It's always fascinating to explore fan theories that add new layers of interpretation to beloved animated series. These theories can ignite our imagination and encourage us to look at these shows from different angles. If you have any more fan theories or questions about specific shows or topics you'd like to discuss, feel free to share them, and I'd be happy to engage in further discussion with you!
By Aarthi Yuvaraj3 years ago in Fiction
The Ice Sculptor's Lament
In the land of eternal ice, where glaciers stretched out like frozen rivers and the air was crisp with the scent of winter, there lived an elderly ice sculptor named Elena. For as long as anyone could remember, Elena had been the heart and soul of the village. Her hands, weathered by time and cold, held the magic of transforming icebergs into magnificent sculptures that took the breath away from anyone who saw them.
By Ezekiel Dada3 years ago in Fiction
Lunchtime: Bread & Meat
[ An excerpt from a novel that's been in-progess for a while] On my lunch break from teaching. Strolling along industrial avenues, smelling, though never glimpsing, the (not so great) Salt Lake. Occasional gusts of wind blow dust from high-mountain desserts or smoke from a wildfire somewhere into the valley, which mixes with vehicular emissions to form the haze that those who live in the valley are asthmatically accustomed to. Nothing but fast food outlets, car dealerships, pawn shops, as parking lots —lots of parking lots— as far as the eye can see (through the haze anyway).
By Halston Williams3 years ago in Fiction
Mythological memories of my father
I was talked to, so I began to talk, and I was read to, so I began to read. Infinite cycles of sleeping and waking, that eventually coalesced into day and night, months and seasons. Feeding and growing, playing with family and friendly beasts: M-O-M and D-A-D, C-A-T-S and D-O-G-S. Our home was protected by the sign of the bear, and there lived Father, Mother, and Baby bear. My first book was "Little Tiger Goes To Bed,” and Father read the story to me until I fell asleep. I had many stuffed beasts to cuddle and hold, like lions tigers, and bears. Oh, my favorite was the snow leopard, though. I celebrated the changing seasons, and played happily on the grass, or in the snow, with the great hounds who guarded our hearth. Winters were warmed by a roaring fire, with a plentiful pantry stocked for the long winter: a fortress of canned goods, bottled summer peaches, Freyja’s homemade apple pie, powdered hot chocolate, smoked-ham, and all kinds of dried foodstuffs. Long hours spent lying in a heap with the giant friendly dogs and cats on the warm rug in front of the radiant, flaming pine logs. When the storms were bad, it was sometimes quite a long time before the roads were clear again, and the wind would howl in the gables like Fenriswulf. But winter always gave way eventually to spring and summer. The woodlands, creeks, and fields became my vast kindergarten under the watchful eyes of EarthMother and Skygods. The Kami-- the spiritual forces dwelling in great trees, and stones, and mountains-- sent their vibes out across the meadow-plains and river valleys. I knew that giants and dragons lay buried under the mountains, but they had gone to sleep long ago.
By Halston Williams3 years ago in Fiction
Whispers
In the depths of a place where shadows dance with whispers, a solitary figure moves with purpose through the corridors of the Library. A realm of knowledge and secrets, where every page holds a story, and every shelf cradles a universe waiting to be explored.
By Ahsan Bashir3 years ago in Fiction
