Short Story

The Dream Journey by Train
1. Samuel Peterson, a frantic, stubborn man, leapt forward in huge strides, as he targeted the 1615 from St. Pancras station. The tannoyed voice ricocheted violently across the air, entering Peterson’s ears presumptuously. A female, high pitched tone droned on about the train he was about to catch, so he hoped. His legs moved swiftly now, like a greyhound chasing that ever-moving plastic rabbit. Lurching and pitching from left to right, with his hand luggage in tow, Peterson dodged several worried looking commuters on the train station platform.
By J W Nelson5 years ago in Fiction
Survival
Survival is an interesting concept. Ask any one hundred people what it means and you’ll get one hundred different answers. Well, you would have, Before. Ask now and you’d get variations of the same answer: it’s staying alive. Although I wouldn’t recommend approaching anyone to ask. Yeah, that’s sarcasm. I never thought about survival Before. Now, I think about it all the time.
By Patricia Anderson 5 years ago in Fiction
713 Mortisal Street
The old library doors swung to with a series of creaks and whines like a wounded bear crying out, finally drifting closed with a distorted rattle of their uneven brass handles.
By Lucian Winter5 years ago in Fiction
For the sake of her
He shouldn’t have done it. We don’t steal from our own, it isn’t what we do. In this ‘new world’ we have no laws, no one to keep the peace among the poor. The ‘rich’ left us here as soon as things started going wrong. We knew it was coming, but we didn’t know when. As soon as the wars began, all the leaders left, along with those that had the money to buy ticket to go with them. It was like doomsday, only with man made technology instead of beaming lights from the sky. Several rockets and ships left. I don’t know where to. Hell I’m still on this damn planet. Could be worse I guess, I could be dead.
By Leigh Williams5 years ago in Fiction
Reaching
There was a tree across the street, the greenest tree that you ever did see. And I say something about the green because it was the only green that I think existed in that grey, drab city.
By Rachel Furniss5 years ago in Fiction
Outlast Me
The heat was approaching unbearable. Two lone figures stumbled across the barren expanse, the sun beating down on them. It’d been three days and two nights since they’d set out, hoping to find something of use. They wore light layers to keep the sun from roasting their skin, using their water sparingly. Even so, it was wearing on them more than they anticipated.
By Stonie Williams5 years ago in Fiction
The Evil
Night, mid spring Journal entry 444 The Change We were together, you and I, for a number of years. With you I experienced the most magic I never knew existed in this world. I also experienced the darkest depths of a human soul. The insanity that love can cause.
By Al Inclusion5 years ago in Fiction
Whatever We Are
The night was chilly, much cooler than it should’ve been for the time of year. There was no point in trying to predict weather patterns anymore, though. The explosion had seen to that. Most days were either hotter than hot, or colder than cold. The rain made your flesh itch and humidity upset your lungs. You had to breathe through your mouth on windy days; no man could bear the stench that rode on the breeze.
By Amber Carta5 years ago in Fiction
A Locket
The setting sun reminded me to sit to rest, letting myself collapse onto a nearby curb. I’d nearly forgotten what I was walking for, my feet blistered, having memorised the long path so I didn’t have to.
By Paul Alberts5 years ago in Fiction
Nowhere Land
She woke in the pre-dawn with the birds and lay still, listening, like she did every morning. If the birds weren't worried, then nor would she. Moving reluctantly in the chill, she drank a cup of water from her pack, then went to relieve herself.
By Rosalind Becroft5 years ago in Fiction
Golden
At the forest’s edge, Axel hid behind an overgrown yew, searching for patrolling sentries or bands of renegades. All clear.
By Staci Troilo5 years ago in Fiction
The Reckoning
Is this life? I thought to my self as i stood there holding my weapon across another females face defending the last known piece of bread to mankind. She reminded me of myself honestly, roughly almost 16 years of age, jet black hair with hazel eyes. We could have been related if someone random bumped into us in the street. But that didn’t matter what mattered at this moment was that i needed to make a name for myself. If some random girl can steal my food the other people out here may get the idea to try and do the same. “Let go of the bread and you can keep your life” ““this is a post apocalypse where everything around us is dirt and we are almost to the stage of cannibalism do as you please, not much to live for anyway.”” she had a point and now I’m in an even worse position in taking control of the situation. All eyes are on us now as she utters “kill me if you please” as i held the pocket knife more firm against her neck i took a chance to think.. this is what started where we are today. The control for power has drove everyone insane and made them turn on each other. “We can share it, it’s not much but both of us will get a portion and peace can be maintained “ in that moment everyone around us seemed more shocked i offered to share instead of just kill her. It’s like they were hoping for an exciting fight scene. “Fine” she said as she rolled her eyes.. for some reason i enjoyed her random yet slightly aggressive attitude. I handed over the bread and started to walk away. Little did i know i had a new associate right behind me. ““So what’s your name?”” The random girl asked. “Maia” i responded. ““That’s interesting what does it stand for? And my name is Sarai. I’m not sure if my name has much meaning.”” “My name originates from the meaning brave warrior.” “”Wow is that how you know how to fight so well?””
By Tati Andrews5 years ago in Fiction