Short Story
We Can Never Run. We Can Never Hide.
"Run, Run, Run, that's all we ever do. Why can't we do something unconventional for a change?" Austria said as she threw her arms down. "Sweatheart, keep running, please, we are almost there–" my husband, Ian said before three IO guards rudely disrupted him.
By Ceo Of Dying3 years ago in Fiction
There's One Just Like it Everywhere
"Tell me a story, stranger." The guy on the opposite stool was a typical weekday drunk, full of good humor at the pain of others and caustic remarks at nothing at all. That he was polite to me was an oddity; perhaps he sensed that I was different, that I was less tethered to this place and its vices than those of his usual company.
By Andrew Johnston3 years ago in Fiction
The Man On The Train
Tap, tap, tap... The tapping was constant and annoying. Somehow it rose above all the chatter and clanking and rustling of the usual noise of the morning commuter train. She sat a bit straighter in her usual seat. A window seat with her briefcase placed on the empty seat next to her, looking at no one, speaking to no one. She always sat at the same seat on the same train 5 days a week to work and back,
By Susan Lewis3 years ago in Fiction
Lotus coming out of crystal-clear water
Once chatting with my old classmates, he said: "Looking at these greasy women around me reminds me of Tan Wenke's classmates. She is really a lotus in clear water." I can't help but sigh that this male student's words are really appropriate. "Lotus comes out of clear water" is often used by trendy love novels or small fresh meat to express the highest praise for girls. Such an abstract word falls into reality, only Tan Wenke.
By Gottlieb Lyle3 years ago in Fiction
A Chance.
My heart was pounding wildly in my ears. I could hear shouts and curses behind me. ''Get her! She must be caught.'' I pushed my poor exhausted body on, towards the blue. If I could only reach the sea, I stood a chance. Max had taught me how to swim when I was five; ten years before 'they' took over, with the promise of a better life, a future, equality. Since then, no-one on this small island was allowed near the ocean. We couldn't stray from the perimeters of the electric fence. Anyone who did manage to escape was shot on sight. After months of planning, and with help, I was now running.
By Deborah Robinson3 years ago in Fiction