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    Belonging - Short Story

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    formulated‚ grazing the grade 1 seven stripes that were sewn on. Stripes of courage‚ rank and acknowledgement. *** My father slowly wiped down the Lee-Enfield while I filled up the metal canteen. “Father‚ is it going to hurt the rabbit?” He let out a short laughter‚ finished with a smirk and a smile offering me to polish the .303 that he was wiping. “Come on son‚ if you have a mind as weak as that‚ you won’t make it past a private.” *** Taking a sip from the warm scented cup‚ the cross dangled down

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    Maymont: A Short Story

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    enjoy. Patrons will arrive at the front gate and immediately be greeted by a vast sea of green with trees towering up above. Walking along an asphalt path‚ you’ll see the main Victorian style estate along with its stone barn‚ herb garden‚ carriage house and water tower. After walking a decent distance‚ folks will run into an exquisite fountain that really moistens the atmosphere around you. According to Maymont’s website‚ “This fountain‚ originally nine feet deep‚ apparently

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    Dabbley: A Short Story

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    Dabbley was brought into a rich family who claimed lands and titles‚ so he lead a life of extravagance. His dad was a noble Lord Commander of the Kings Shadow Guards who were the rulers defenders and personal guard. Dabbley himself was an apprentice to a Master swordsman of the Shadow Brothers-a paid professional assassin group who were enlisted by kings and queens and lords and any individual who could bear the cost of their services. Dabbley had two brothers and a sister‚ his older brother Dominique

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    loved that man‚ you’d be with him and not here." "Oh‚ Samantha‚ don’t say that." "Well is it not true? Gene‚ we both know that husband of your’s is long past his mental prime. Just last week you were telling me of his little adventures‚ completely emptying your emergency account‚ trudging over to the nearest bar‚ asking for a milkshake! On cocktail night! The sheer embarrassment of it all!" "Hush Samantha. The server is back." Jocelyn muttered‚ turning to smile shyly at the young man as he strutted

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    Hate: A Short Story

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    someone to meet and I wish I never had. I want to tell you the story of how I met hate‚ and how I somehow managed to power through it. It all started a long time ago‚ when I was about six or seven. I lived in North Carolina‚ and I would come visit my family here‚ in South Carolina. I was young‚ so of course‚ I did not know any better when they would fool around with me. Say stuff to me‚ that made no sense to a child. I would visit my aunt’s house and I would spend nights over there and play around with

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    Flatsound: A Short Story

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    “The coast is clear. Chloe and Dad went grocery shopping‚” Helen says triumphantly. I open the door and step into the hallway. Helen had taken her makeup off and put on a pair of gym shorts and a muscle shirt. “Now that you don’t have parents to worry about‚ are you excited for tomorrow?” she asks me as we step down the stairs into the living room. Last week’s episode of Face Off was on the television. Ethan was lying on the floor next

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    Mute: A Short Story

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    Mute “Deeeeeeeep” The heart minder screamed letting me know that cancer was winning “DOCTOR” I screamed at the top of my lungs. I took one last gazes into my sister’s eyes as the nurse pushed me out the room and all I witness was defeat and surrender. “ Myasia I’m sorry‚ I love you” she battled to pronounce. “ Taj don’t talk like that‚ I’m not letting you go… I can’t” I replied bursting into tears and pushing through the nurse into my sister’s arms . “Myasia listen‚ y-you can never t-talk…”

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    Laila's Short Story

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    to a flood. She had no clue where to live now‚ but then she realized‚ she needed to build a house. She wandered to find a good place for her new house to be built. She wandered and wandered‚ but could not find a good place. It was evening and she finally found a nice place to build her new house. She tried to find sticks and straws to build her new house out of. She stayed up all night to build her new house. After it was built‚ she went out to find some food. She brought back berries and bread she

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    It started like any other day up on the hills of Rhein‚ but that day had the scent of freedom floating in the air. The journey ahead of me had been teasing me for weeks‚ I was just so anxious to get away and start all over again. I had made certain arrangements before I left‚ our family dog was not allowed on the ship that we were going to be arriving in America‚ so I had my parents take care of the dog for us. It was a hard thing to do seeing that the dog had become more than just a pet to the

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    Dystopian Short Story

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    Betrayal of Freedom Here I am again; working for another rich family to do their labour. I hate having no freedom. I have been owned by different rich families ever since I was born. I am now 16‚ 17 in a month‚ I think. I kind of lose track. I never met my parents. They were slaves for other folks so I guess I won’t ever get to meet them. I don’t get jealous of the rich families though. They got no respect; the young spoilt‚ spiteful children treat me like a piece of shit on their shoe. I can’t do

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