I don't know what I'm doing here. I never really have to be honest. Going through that door was the worst decision of my life and now look where I am. Stuck here, in a world I know nothing about, one that looks so familiar and yet so alien. A place where I am surround by people yet so alone.
I'd rather I was actually alone, it's much better than being ignored. Much better than the situation I'm in now.
It boggles the mind what the people are like here. They never stop, they're always moving. None of this makes...
I had already been running for way too long. Over rocks and streams, around trees, it didn't seem to matter. The maze of the landscape seemed perfectly clear to me as I forced myself through the forest.
The only things I knew for sure were that I had to get away from this thing and that the only advantage I had was my familiarity of the land.
The beast was definitely faster than me. And hungry. Those two things together weren't making things look good at all.
Why did I have to go into its territory and steal food? Why...
In the springtime of our country's bicentennial. Two young lovers discovered a large rock, that was weathered in such a way to resemble a table. Underneath this table was a mason jar and in that jar a note was held. This is what it read:
Certainties are immutable, this I know to be true. A firm handshake and jolly pat-on-the-back for a job well done. These over-indulgences of manufactured ardor get old. I was never about love, just understanding. Something that can't be quantified in perceived notions from three hundred years ago.
So I post my stake. I make my...
She'd have preferred the electric chair to spending another night at her mother-in-law's cottage.
the mother in law doted and fussed over her son, as if he was a newborn. She made all the meals and cleaned everything and once she caught her wiping the mustard from his chin.
"Oh, I'll make the hotdogs, dear," she said. "Andrew likes them a special way. Wouldn't want you to waste all that time and not have them turn out. Why don't you go lay on the sand and get some sun. You could use it, you seem frightfully pale."
Emily forced a...
And so another group assembled. The moon shone like the eye of a great forgotten deity, peering down on the hooded figures who worked tediously on the pyre between them.
Old branches, gnarled and bony, reached into the pyre as more hoods broke into the meadow. No one knew why they had been gathered here, in the deep wood that bordered the black lake. But, like their ancestors, the call to arms was one they could not deny.
And as sudden as they all appeared, a creature formed from within the darkness, dark green flesh glimmering with the faint caress...
Heather had never found her talent.
The smallest amount of knitting made her arms feel like they'd fall from her shoulders. Her paintings looked like they'd been crafted by a toddler. Even decoupage, just gluing paper onto things to decorate them, seemed beyond her reach; in every project the images were wrinkled and unattractive. What was she doing wrong? Time and time again she struggled to release her creative genius, the one she had been told lived inside each and every person, but evidently she preferred to stay hidden deep inside.
Standing on the bridge, she watched the churning waters...
He ran into the room, his heart pounding, and his clothes soaking wet. "What happened?" we asked. He regained his breath, swallowed hard, and began. "Darryl was found on the beach. He's dead." he said. Everyone gasped. Only Delta was calm. She sat casually on her chair and said, "Well, he got what he deserved, then, didn't he?" Everyone looked at her in disbelief. "Delta! How could you say that! Darryl's dead!" Evelyn said, her hands flying up to her mouth. "And it's great! that snake of a man got exactly what he deserved." Delta said haughtily, standing up and...
Wait ... for a green-clad man. He will come to you either at dusk or at dawn if you stand by this gate. When he comes, you must say to him, "I see, they have dammed the brook below Piper's copse." He will stop and fill his pipe and make small talk with you about this and that. Speak freely and let him know of your grief. Tell him how your crops have failed these last three years for want of rain or too much of it and how sick your children are. He will listen to you quietly and...
We were on a quest to find the Black Rose. It was the only thing which could be used to defeat Francis.
Cold, hungry, and lost in the forest, we stopped for some rest.
"Marchiel, what's our plan?". Miriam asked me.
"At first light, we travel to Moundenchow. I know someone there who can help us. Get some rest.", I answered
Dawn rose, and we were on our way to Moundenchow.
We met my friend at a tavern, and he directed us to the mantle above the fireplace. There it was. The Black Rose. It had been secreted in this...
He ran into the room, his heart pounding, and his clothes soaking wet. Or were his clothes pounding and his heart soaking wet? That's the great mystery surrounding the untimely death of Clive Anthony Cliveanthony.
We know that he did run into the room, based upon the velocity of wind against his person and tread marks on the carpet from his sandals. And yet, by the time his body was discovered, the clothes were dry and the heart was definitely not pounding. His liver was pounding, but not his heart. His heart just sat there with a vacant expression, like...