Adventure
Hamish the Protector
Standing before the great statue of Hamish the Protector, the Saviour of the Wastelands, Trevor was dumbstruck with awe, his mind as thick as molasses. — I can’t believe we found him Honey, he said to his wife whose name, coincidentally enough, was Honey. — All hail our great idol, said Honey. — All hail the Great Protector, said Trevor. Flies flew in and out of their mouths with free abandon as the pair stood gaping at the colossus.
By Ben Debney3 years ago in Fiction
Raptor Hunt & Mesoamerican Adventure
What do you know about raptors? We are refined prime predators. Quick minds make rapid adaptors. They’ve been around since dinosaurs. Now we've flight & in the sky soar! We’re a feature of much folklore. We now protect the bald eagle. Their true nature is quite regal. To hunt them in now illegal. I did once shoot a red-tailed hawk. Upon death we felt a soul shock! A somber truth no being can mock. My chickens needed protection. Death in my arms was connection. Its shocked eyes showed my reflection.
By David Duran 3 years ago in Fiction
Intervention
Intervention Chowchow, nicknamed for the cabbage relish he dearly loved, kissed his good luck charm, a silver heart shaped locket that had belonged to his wife, now deceased some seven years. He powered up the shuttle Moonbeam and prepared for liftoff. Whatever his load was, it must be pretty damn important to get him out of bed at midnight, moon time, and pay him triple his normal wage to ferry whatever it was to the space station circling the earth.
By Cleve Taylor 3 years ago in Fiction
Surviving by the Lake
Surviving by the Lake Clifford and his ten year old granddaughter rested on a bed of pine needles under a big Southern pine tree up the slope leading down to Caney Lake. Cliff had opted to stay behind when his seventy year old body couldn’t keep up the pace of the six younger people in his group as they looked for food or tools overlooked by scavengers who had come through before them.
By Cleve Taylor 3 years ago in Fiction
The High Keeper
A sudden forgotten task leapt into my mind. I looked at the trees around me, cataloging each. Spruce, pine, elm, maple… Not the tree I needed; I had to go deeper into the forest. Alder, I needed to find an alder tree. It would be easy to spot one this time of year. Long catkins covered in tiny white-yellow flowers would be hanging from the branches. It wasn’t these I was after though. I needed an alder tree for one of the residents of its branches. High, high up in the top of the alder tree, safe from deer who munched the moss on its trunk, and too sparce to provide the cover birds desired, grew a rare flower, a type of yellow orchid called Wizard’s Tears.
By Ashley Somogyi3 years ago in Fiction
The High Keeper
My mother used to tell me stories about what things were like before. She would tell me how the world was a kinder place, that people were not so fearful of each other. Sometimes she would sing me songs she had heard in Nandorun, the capital city, before it became a place of fear to people like me, before the Rune Lords betrayed us. She said everything was spring and summer then. But that was long before I was born, when my mother was still a young girl. I don’t have any memories like she does, I can’t even really imagine a world like that.
By Ashley Somogyi3 years ago in Fiction