Short Story
The Reversal
Mary Lynfield held onto her cue cards tightly. There was a lump in her throat that wouldn’t go away. Even after being in this business for 12 years, she always got nervous before a show. Millions of viewers across the country had no idea that she actually hated what she did for a living. She was an introvert with a penchant for perfectionism and a bad tendency to self-deprecate. None of her staff knew that she’d rewatch old clips at home, just to focus on all the ways she could have done better.
By Mawia Khogali5 years ago in Fiction
Social shock
I am a glow stick in a world filled with lamps and flashlights. I was never created to fit in. I didn’t come into the world with a matching set of parents like everybody else. I came into the world with the absence of my father and years later my mother also decided to leave. I was alone in a world that wasn’t created to understand me. For example, everyone saw the sadness in the world. I never could see the sadness. Even in a world filled with darkness, I always saw the light. Maybe it was because I was built differently. I was not your usual yellow light. I didn’t come with a bulb and I didn’t break easily when you dropped me. I wasn’t like everyone else. Everyone else ran on batteries. A lot of times their batteries would die quickly and they would lose their light. I was different, I was a glow stick. I loved who I was but sometimes I just wanted to be like everyone else. Sometimes I just wanted to fit in. At one point I was trying everything. I tried to hangout with others who didn’t really care about me, but then I would care too much because they were all I had. I just wanted to feel like I belonged. I tried dating different guys and trying different hobbies so I wouldn’t feel alone. I didn’t mind being by myself, but I didn't like to be left alone with my thoughts. It just never felt like there was a place just for me. I thought maybe I wasn’t meant to be a glow stick, so I tried to learn Morse code and tape batteries on me. However, I just could never be like everyone else and they always reminded me with their consistent mockery. They would mock me because I wasn’t always chosen first. They would mock me because I looked different than them. They even mocked me for always smiling. I began to question who I was and started asking myself, “ Why don’t they pick me? Why do I look like this? Stop smiling! Why am I even here?”
By Keke’s Konnects5 years ago in Fiction
Fragility
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been on foot, but he knew it wasn’t long enough to be safe. Each day and night, he moved and hid like the roaches he was terrified of. Who knew what was safe anymore? What seemed like months was only days. In the span of a week, his life had become more of a priority than it ever was.
By Bianca Hubbard5 years ago in Fiction
Our Light
Robert breathed out steadily, filling the air with swirling mist. The wrinkles around his eyes settled into a familiar pattern as he smiled contentedly; the crisp morning was filled with promise. They were perched on a worn bench atop a grassy bluff. Far below and away, the sea met the sky in a reflective mirror of orange and pink. Still morning air smoothed the waves. Breathing in once more, his nose was filled with the scents of eucalyptus and salt, with an undercurrent of morning glory. They’d been coming up here since she was so young that he had to carry her. He never minded though- she was his light in the darkness.
By Mikayla Babin5 years ago in Fiction
The Lacquered Locket
The Lacquered Locket By Nathanael John Highben Ezra did not mind the way the world had turned out. It had been 7 years since life ended and something strange, beautiful, and wild had begun. Earth was behind it all in the end. First of the catastrophes was the satellites falling from the sky. When everything that was floating above finally came down, Mother Earth stopped providing in other ways. There was no more oil, coal, or crops to be had. The world suffered a 5-year draught, and that was about how long it took for supplies of oil and gas to run dry too.
By Nathanael John Highben5 years ago in Fiction
A World Without
My earliest memory is one of my Great-grandmother sitting across the dining room table from my mother. It was a few days from my birthday, and the mornings were already turning hot and sticky, telling us that April had arrived in Texas. My Great-grandmother was speaking quietly, as though it was important to her that I didn’t hear what it was that she was saying. She was telling my mother that parenthood is hard. How all we are is sacrifice and that a life with one of us was going to be a life filled with telling herself that she was not going being able to do the things that you want to do or go the places that you want to go and telling her that the way things now were better for everyone, including me.
By Roland Snider5 years ago in Fiction
Christina's Last Days at Home By: Danyel Fields
During this early fall Friday Christina was still at work. With how loud it always was in the factory she couldn't hear her phone ring. When break finally came around she got the chance to check her phone. She had one unknown missed phone call, thankfully they left a voicemail. She couldn't think of anyone who would be leaving a voicemail, other than she had done an interview with a producer just this last Monday from Hollywood. She didn't check it right than, she figured after work would be better.
By Danyel Fields5 years ago in Fiction
Survival Island
As the years passed by and the world became cold and grey all many of us had of the past were old photographs. Old school developed photos and not a compilation of your favorite moments on your Instagram page. You know the old school ones where Grandma couldn't aim and the top of sissys head was cut off? Or the 1000 times you reminded dad to always move his thumb out of the frame and there you are at your high school prom. You, James and dad's thumb. Oh how long ago that feels. How I long to have dad embarass me by taking 10 photos of me under the trees just so he can reminisce on rainy days about how much the world has changed. Dad, if only you were here you could hold my hand as the shivers begin and my fever commences.
By Reel Vibes5 years ago in Fiction
Googol’s Grandiose Gamble
For many years, Googol carried a light burden. He knew how to prove the impossible, namely that one equals two. Had it been correct, this 1 = 2 equation would have had many ramifications, including that of the absurdity of life, notwithstanding its already obvious irrationality—fait accompli. The equation was derived by means of seven simple steps:
By Patrick M. Ohana5 years ago in Fiction
