metal clamp pressure seal and pulled the metal door open. Air shot out and the man felt something hit his feet. The man quickly shoo the dust away with his hands. The man looked down when the dust past. The man’s pupil’s widened at the scene. Another dead
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS The Nice People‚ by Henry Cuyler Bunner‚ is republished from his volume‚ Short Sixes‚ by permission of its publishers‚ Charles Scribner’s Sons. The Buller-Podington Compact‚ by Frank Richard Stockton‚ is from his volume‚ Afield and Afloat‚ and is republished by permission of Charles Scribner’s Sons. _Colonel Starbottle for the Plaintiff_‚ by Bret Harte‚ is from the collection of his stories entitled Openings in the Old Trail‚ and is republished by permission of the Houghton Mifflin
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Side by side‚ the horses flew across the field. At the far edge‚ nestled behind several towering pine trees‚ sat the quaint cottage‚ and just to the right‚ sunlight glinted off the calm surface of the spring. As Gawain and Wallace’s horse shot into the lead‚ Gawain gave the reins a gentle pull‚ slowing the animal. “It’s chivalrous to allow the lady to win‚” whispered Gawain into Wallace’s ear‚ and the little boy nodded vigorously. One sure way to get Wallace to agree to something was to say it was
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It was true. Several of the maidens and their families left the compound as soon as the food supply became scarce. Her Master had not been outside of the home in months as his appearance became increasingly unrecognizable—even to her. It made her sad to see the man she’d grown to admire succumb to such an unexplainable illness and tragedies that surpassed human limitations. Ayala always thought that one day she would marry herself a man much like her Master… someone rich‚ handsome‚ and who
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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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The graveyard was dark and shadowed; tulips lined the cobblestone pathway that led to the mausoleum‚ looming darkly against the feeble moon. I strode through the graveyard‚ glancing nervously around at the shadows that lay thick upon the graves like a shroud. Tulips‚ protruding like withered stakes from the ground‚ lined the pathway‚ and I could smell their sickly-sweet odor as I approached the mausoleum‚ looming above me like a forbidding monument to the feeble moon above. “Rachel!” I cried out
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Cadet Alder‚ and Zenith‚ are surveying the rocky terrain. The sun beams reflect off the reflective rocks. Life on this harsh world tunnel underground for water and nutrients to survive. It’s dead silent other than the footstep of the two cadets. The hot and dry air‚ makes you want to drink water with each step. So sign of tree for miles and you know when a fire is burning and the edges of the flame makes what you see goes wavy? Well‚ everything was seen wavy through horrid heat. Alder exhausted exclaims
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In the Beginning‚ there was Akal‚ and Akal was all. The Void before the Universe contained neither time nor space. The heavens and their hosts had not been created‚ and nothing existed as yet‚ properly speaking. There was no light‚ but there was no darkness either: The Void was a nothingness that the eye cannot perceive nor the mind understand. The Void was not empty‚ though. It was filled by the Word‚ and the Word was Akal. One might say He had always existed‚ but He would not have thought of it
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As Murlock awoke to the dark and silent cabin‚ he was in a state of confusion as you sometime are when you wake up from deep sleep. Trying to regain his wits about him‚ he remembered that he had been watching over his beloved wife’s body when he had fallen into his weary slumber. He then recalled that something had woken him up and felt a spike in fear. His senses amplified‚ he strained to see it the seemingly never ending darkness. He thought it smelled something like wet dog and mud from the rain
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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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