camp in the camp he saw a toaster. The toaster had obviously been there for a while because his chrome cover was more bronze than silver‚ his lever would barely move‚ and he didn’t have the digital knob upgrade. The toaster’s blue eyes fell upon the golden brown waffle the waffles eyes fell upon the toasters ordinary eyes. As soon as the waffle saw the toaster he knew that they would have to take down toaster town before this toaster could tell anyone he saw a waffle in toaster territory. The toaster
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Beowulf: Short Story In the beautiful town of Ventaria‚ which is located near the southern- most point of Ireland‚ a once proud colony of people enjoyed the magnificent surroundings and a simplistic life. Brian the Great‚ beloved ruler of the Ventarians‚ had been killed by the evil Filth-Sammich. This vile creature‚ with a crocodile-like build‚ had a head larger than the immense church in the center of the town. When fully-opened‚ the mouth of the Filth-Sammich could open wide enough to fit
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Étienne‚ the butler‚ finally announced that dinner was served. We put down our drinks‚ and cheered the news which brought us closer to the long awaited moment to savor the “saumon a la mayonnaise’‚ specialty of Mélanie la cuisinière. In the middle of the agitation‚ I was approached by the Baron de Valfort to escort Dame Irène Chaboix. I was glad to do it. I went over to the Diva right away‚ and offered her my arm‚ which she accepted with the grandiloquence of stage actors. Like most old artists
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BELONGING STORY(2) Coughing violently‚ I passed the glass pipe along to the young man beside me‚ who took a long drag before handing it on the next in the circle. I could feel the foul-tasting smoke tear down my throat and withstood the urge to vomit. The entire room was overflowing with a fetid haze; it grated against the back of my throat as though it were sandpaper. I fought to maintain my composure and appearance of serenity‚ but if anyone looked close enough they would easily be able to distinguish
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In Control In my sophomore year of high school‚ I remember a particular speech I had to deliver in my English class. It was just like any other‚ honestly. But this one‚ this specific one‚ gave me the greatest trouble. My irrational fear of public speaking consumed me and turned me against myself. I remember the mindset that I had for most of my sophomore year: me vs. them. That was how high school was. It was every man for himself. But never would I have ever thought that I was my own biggest obstacle
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Cabin Story Sitting here by the beach with my two best friends Aketzeli and Jordyn drinking piña colada waking the waves. Well at least I was thinking of the trip being like that. I’m Jasmine I’m 18 and I will be telling you about are trip to Hawaii. We are on are own private plane flying to Hawaii. You are probably thinking why are they going to Hawaii we’ll we just finished school and I thought that on your graduation party I would surprise them to go on a trip with me. Finally we land here
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A bad day A man was working on his motorcycle on his patio and his wife was in the kitchen. The man was racing the engine on the motorcycle when it accidentally slipped into gear. The man‚ still holding onto the handlebars‚ was dragged through the glass patio doors and along with the motorcycle dumped onto the floor inside the house. The wife‚ hearing the crash‚ ran into the dining room and found her husband lying on the floor‚ cut and bleeding‚ the motorcycle lying next to him‚ and the shattered
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JORGE One night in Jamaica‚ a warm breeze rustled the trees‚ they seemed to whisper to him. As night fell‚ he watched the sun set and tried to count the stars. Jorge sat watching as the stars appeared in the sky. He couldn’t count‚ so high and decided and closed his eyes. Jorge leaned his head back into his palms and sighed. He was sprawled out on the cool grass. He patted his dog beside him. It would soon be time for dinner and he must go in and help his grandmother prepare the family meal
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Short Story Scrutiny. Scepticism. Shock. It was all too familiar‚ the look on the faces in the room. An aboriginal female in a doctor’s coat. She glanced around the room as she sat down. The dullness of the grey walls seemed to absorb the lost hopes and dreams of the young men around her. The stale oxygen that lingered in the small room was slowly suffocating under the sterile smell of disinfectant. The only glimmer of light was a small corner of a window where the morning sun shimmered through
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very few could manipulate it to their will. The man in this story is me‚ my name is Rayn and I write this story to chronicle my rise to power. My journey started when I was in my mid twenties and our country was at war with a neighboring kingdom. I was a guard for a small village which was ruled by the empire of Luton grod. One day while out on patrol a strange old man was making his way to our village. This is where our story begins. The
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