Fan Fiction
dandelions are my favorite
Louis knelt at the edge of the pond. The water was a murky brown color. He stared into the water, trying to catch a glimpse of the life that lived down there. The hot July sun beat down on him and beads of sweat rolled down his face. It didn’t help that he wore that furry hat. Even when the temperatures climbed well above 90℉, he wouldn’t take it off. A frown grew on his face as thoughts, of Cora and Belle trying to take his hat away from him, bubbled up in his mind.
By Eddie Charlotte2 years ago in Fiction
REZ DOG
"Better?" Issac Wise's bright white eyes switched to dark brown in a single blink. His eyes fixated at the cold, glass cup in his hand as the cold bit at his palm. He swallowed, his now brown eyes meeting Jamie Fault's. Her glossed lips twitched and frowned; her eyes were filled with concern and fear.
By Dustin Lugo2 years ago in Fiction
Frankenstein's Eulogy
Please forgive me ahead of time, for I was not well acquainted with the deceased. Upon the discovery of his death, we happened upon a series of journals that he left behind, and felt it best that we would use the entries to better speak of the “man” we bury today. As I am the local man of the church, it is my responsibility to speak for this, this thing that lies here before us this day, as for there is no one else willing to speak for him. We gather here today, not to judge nor honor him, but to give him a proper burial, and a proper send-off, that all of our world’s creatures deserve, and this “man” is no exception.
By Bryttnie Chaffin2 years ago in Fiction
The island at noon
The first time he saw the island, Marini was courteously leaning down toward the seat on his left, setting down the plastic table and putting up the lunch tray. As he walked back and forth with his magazine or his whiskey glass, the female passenger looked at him several times; Malini unhurriedly adjusted the table, bored, wondering if it was necessary to respond to the persistent gaze of the female passenger - an American woman, one of many American female passengers. Just then, the blue oval of the porthole window showed the coast of the island, with its beaches like golden ribbons and a small hill clustered around a central wilderness. Marini smiled at the female passenger as she righted her tilted beer glass. "A Greek island." He said. "Oh, yes, Greece." The American woman replied, feigning interest. The bell rang and the steward straightened up, a professional smile still lingering on his thin lips. He went to fetch tomato juice for a Syrian couple, but paused for a few seconds to look down when he reached the rear of the cabin: the island was small, isolated in the sea, with the azure Aegean encircling it, framing it with a dazzling frozen white edge that should have been the waves splashing between the reef and the bay. Marini watched the desolate beach stretching north and west, the rest of it a mountainous ridge that tapered into the sea. A rock-strewn deserted island, though the leaden gray speck near the northern beach could have been a home, perhaps a cluster of primitive houses. He opened his can of juice, and by the time he straightened up the island had disappeared through the porthole, leaving only the sea, a sprawling green horizon. He subconsciously glanced at his watch: it was just about noon.
By Moxadple ggg2 years ago in Fiction