Fable
One Brave Indian. Top Story - August 2022.
I was on my way to mail a letter to a friend. It was a depressing letter, hand written or more accurately, scribbled, an obligatory reply to an encouraging communication in the other direction. A ‘thanks, but no thanks’ with all the depressing factors most anyone could concoct from a morose perspective on their lives. I had described all the reasons for my dismal failures of late, blamed everyone I could for every deficit I could account to them, and then concluded with a Psalmic reference to urge the reader to pray and not call the suicide hotline on my behalf. But something turned me aside on my path to the post office.
By Larry Berger4 years ago in Fiction
Cryptid Cosmos: Kettle Belly Ken
Introduction Back in the days of “The Great Crystal Rush,” miners and prospectors set out to the outer rim in droves. They went in search of the galaxy’s newest source of energy, in the form of the symbiotic crystals Omsilite and Aphsilite. As the demand for these new resources grew many strange stories came about from the those cold and lonesome wildernesses and the adventurers that dared to traverse them.
By Seth House4 years ago in Fiction
Who Or What Is The Woke Mob?
By way of metonymy, the 'woke' mob gets thrown around quite a lot in our modern political arena. So, what exactly do you think it means? And, what’s the best way to capture the essence of the message being conveyed, without being overly (or perhaps unbearably), critical of the Left? I’ve come up with a story to do just that. So here’s my personal reflection on what or who the 'woke' mob may be….
By Delusions of Grandeur 4 years ago in Fiction
The Daughter of Atlas
I sat alone, taking in the sight of the dying day. Nothing but the rhythmic sound of the tide ebbing and flowing interrupted the tranquility of my Isle. Purples and golds stretched across the evening sky, as sculpted clouds lazily passed through it. On my lips a song began. An old one, from a time before the Greeks came to be. There in the distance, I could see a speck. A small ship loaded down with food and drink. A single man steered it. Odysseus. My dear Odysseus.
By Daniel Bussey4 years ago in Fiction
