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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Arthur tapped Fredrick’s left shoulder with Excalibur and then his right. "Arise‚ Sir Fredrick‚ Knight of Camelot and defender of the crown." "Heaven help me‚" he prayed under his breath before rising to his feet. Arthur had a small smirk on his face as if he’d heard the comment and Fredrick wasn’t entirely sure how to take the king pleasure in his discomfort. He was a knight of Camelot now‚ a place he’d never aspired to. His fellows who really knew him would do the same when they found out. "Now
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It started off like any other day. It was a Saturday morning and I had gotten up extra early that day. I took a shower‚ got dressed‚ and put my make-up on in preparation. I was heading out to the nearby town of Attleboro. It was there that I would start my first day volunteering at the Food Kitchen of Hebron. After a thirty-minute ride‚ I had arrived. I walked into the building nervous about volunteering. I started off by wrapping bread loaves‚ bagels‚ and donuts in plastic wrap for the homeless
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It was a rare beautiful summer day and I was bursting with happiness and joy to finally be able to meet the love of my life after several days. Every time I wasn’t with him I felt my world was crushing down on me. A day without him was like a year. The pain of him not being around was driving me insane. I just had to meet him‚ however Micheal was unaware of this. My plan was to surprise him. I knew exactly where he would be‚ it was a Saturday so of course he would be hitting the beautiful white beach
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Budi is in a hurry. His breath is heavy. Muttering to himself‚ he runs. The path was dark and the evening wind blowing against him‚ giving him a chill. He can hear the sound of crickets echoing through the jungle‚ the wild birds calling each other with eerie tone and leaves brushed by the wind giving off whispers. None of that bothers him. He is on a mission. The situation has taken a turn for the worst. He is out of options. Although common‚ dark arts are not something to be taken lightly. He desperately
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My life begins here in Brownsville‚ Texas. However‚ I was only there from the beginning when I was a newborn before going back to Matamoros‚ Tamaulipas where my family had their own house. My mom wanted to have me in the U.S. because people had told her that there were far more opportunities over here. Technically‚ these two cities have become my two homes. I do miss Matamoros‚ Tamaulipas because that’s where I spend most of my childhood until I was seven years old. Then we had to return back to
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with blue roofs but still manages to look dark and mysterious and has an eerie feel surrounding it. It is long and on half of it is about 10 floors high with little towers coming out above the main roof‚ the other half is lower down‚ only about 5 stories high‚ with a large watch tower in the middle of that section. It houses my aunt‚ uncle and their daughter‚ my cousin and a few other families. For the last few days I’ve been walking to their estate as I am moving there to live with them because my
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Howardsville‚ a quaint little city‚ nestled in the foothills of the Putney Mountains located forty miles southwest of Charleston‚ West Virginia‚ had its own dark history. Having lived his entire life in the two–story house on the outskirts of town‚ Ernest Cassidy was familiar with the myths‚ legends‚ and lies about his city and was always quick to defend it. The mysteries began years earlier when Dr. Ronald Hackney; a surgeon at General Hospital in Charleston came up missing. One morning‚ he didn’t
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“Simple Mission Detora. The possible location of the rumored underground city‚ Damancia‚ is marked on your phone’s map. Your mission is to find‚ confirm‚ and retract the original Damascus sword.” said Ely Kyal( codename: Kyll). “ Isn’t that the sword that can cut through anything?” asked Mason. “ Correct. This sword‚ and its possible wielder can be immensely dangerous‚ too dangerous. If this artifact gets in the wrong hands‚ it could prove cataclysmic‚ especially so with the armour still out there
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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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