Molly felt bad about having to lie about why she was cutting out early on her new friends, but where she was headed just then wasn’t something one can very easily explain. She took a bus from Cliff Hill to the Carter City University campus, a city district in and of itself. Cyprus had instructed her to meet him and the others in the old fallout shelter under the Ruth Anne McDermount science center.
The poorly-lit room was buzzing when she arrived. This wasn’t the group of seven or eight she was expecting. Instead, a group of what had to be more than sixty people were milling about, passing around the homemade baked goods Mama Pa
The Event Series
3
Literature
Detention
The following rant has nothing to do with anything, I just thought you'd like to know-
Detention
No one is quiet sure who came up with this concept, but, everyone knows that it is completely undesired for oneself to be landed in detention. My dad says that this hazy preteen thing I'm going through right now is "just a phase", I don't believe him. Neither does my identical twin brother Caleb. I'm Shamus O'Neil; I have two sisters and two brothers, my older sister Valery is in college, Peace (Don't laugh, its paid for.) is younger than Val, but older than me and Caleb. Then there's little Paul, he's
Futa
3
Literature
The Tomb
“Do you believe in ghosts?” Bobbie asked me from across the narrow passage. I glanced back at her for a moment to answer, “No. Why?” I was studying the wall in front of me, or rather, the glyphs carved into it. I didn’t recognize the language, but I was sure Bobbie did. Ancient societies and peoples were kind of her thing.
“This is a tomb.” She said calmly. I didn’t give it much thought. I’d been in tombs before; mostly in Egypt. I spent my internship mapping the final resting places of pharaohs with Brigade G12, a team made up mostly of former archeologists who thought I was too young.
Kendra Watkins lives in the East Village, a neighborhood that borders Church Row and the Warehouse District. She has three siblings, two brothers and a sister. Her mother is a stay at home mom and her father works as an administrations assistant at Schmidt & Siefker, an insurance firm in the Business District.
It was early on the two hundred and fifty second day, a Saturday.
“Kendra.” Her mother knocked on the door as she pushed it open. Her daughter was lying on her bed with her new headphones on, eyes closed, arms at her sides.
“Kendra.” Jaclyn Watkins said louder. She then made a face and sat down on the bed
Interview with a Cyberpath by Wierdrocks, literature
Literature
Interview with a Cyberpath
Interview with a Cyberpath
“I can communicate pretty well with my laptop.” She said. “I talk to him every night.”
“Him?” Kaz asked.
“Yeah, him.” She replied. “I did name him Sarah when I got him, but now I know he’s a boy and that he is named Benjamine.” She slipped the computer out of his case then and placed him on her lap. She sat-cross legged on the couch. I was on a bench. Kaz was lying on a recently-added beanbag chair.
“Your laptop came with a name and a gender?” Kaz asked.
“No. He’s connected to the internet, so he used it to explore the worl
An Emergency Meeting of The People by Wierdrocks, literature
Literature
An Emergency Meeting of The People
Molly felt bad about having to lie about why she was cutting out early on her new friends, but where she was headed just then wasn’t something one can very easily explain. She took a bus from Cliff Hill to the Carter City University campus, a city district in and of itself. Cyprus had instructed her to meet him and the others in the old fallout shelter under the Ruth Anne McDermount science center.
The poorly-lit room was buzzing when she arrived. This wasn’t the group of seven or eight she was expecting. Instead, a group of what had to be more than sixty people were milling about, passing around the homemade baked goods Mama Pa
The first time HP ever rode Gator was also the first time he'd ever ridden any horse and the first time Gator had been ridden by a human. The ranch hand in charge of the stable where Brigade A21 would be housing their horses stood close by as the white draft cross spun in circles in the paddock. HP had one hand on the reigns and one hand on the back of the western saddle on sat in. He was too scared to try and hide the fear on his face.
Gator whined and shook his mane and trotted about and generally made it clear that he didn't agree with this situation. But he didn't buck. That was the important thing. Please no throwing humans, thank you. H
“Do you believe in ghosts?” Bobbie asked me from across the narrow passage. I glanced back at her for a moment to answer, “No. Why?” I was studying the wall in front of me, or rather, the glyphs carved into it. I didn’t recognize the language, but I was sure Bobbie did. Ancient societies and peoples were kind of her thing.
“This is a tomb.” She said calmly. I didn’t give it much thought. I’d been in tombs before; mostly in Egypt. I spent my internship mapping the final resting places of pharaohs with Brigade G12, a team made up mostly of former archeologists who thought I was too young.
The cream-white scroll was wrapped tightly and secured in the middle with a turquoise ring. This ring was adorned with jagged, swirling markings and topped with a squared off chunk of lapis lazuli. The edge of the paper itself was the same deep, dreamy blue as this stone.
Next to it on the table was a brownish scroll with frayed edges. It was secured with a light purple ring topped with a silver scarab beetle that was accented with the same purple.
The last scroll on the table was comprised of bright spring green paper and secured with a deep green ring. The ring was studded with emeralds that almost blended in with their setting.
His ey
They had never been more disappointed in me. That's what they said anyway, but they said that every time I got anything below a "B" on my report card or skipped class or didn't dry the dishes exactly how they wanted them dried. This time, dear ol' dad was red-faced and disturbing the neighbors because I’d broken curfew. Or I should say, he was red-faced and disturbing the neighbors because I’d skipped curfew and gotten caught.
I admit to being careless. I hadn't gone around to the side of the house to see if the den light was on before I snuck into the root cellar door to come up from the basement. If I had checked, I would&rsqu
“Hi Adam.” He smiled warmly and ushered me into his office. I walked in slowly and looked around. It was small, but not too small, like, there was room for a couch and a desk and three chairs a couple bookshelves, and a small coffee table but not much else. It didn’t feel cramped or anything. I think mom might’ve called it “cozy”.
The walls were tan, and the few parts that weren’t covered in books showed sepia tone photographs of people all displaying different emotions: anger, happiness, sorrow, etc. The single window, which was one of those great big Victorian pane glass deals that ran along the s
A Trip to the Boarding House Apothecary by Wierdrocks, literature
Literature
A Trip to the Boarding House Apothecary
The room wasn't small. It only seemed that way because of the sheer amount of stuff spilling from every crate and off of every shelf in the place. It took Trenton a while to find the bed, or rather, something that seemed to resemble a bed, amoung the moutains of books, papers, quills, small boxes, bottles, pots, bowls, pitchers and jar that covered every space imaginable.
The thing that looked like it might be a bed was in the center of the room, surrounded on all sides by... it wasn't clutter. It felt like it all had a good reason for being exactly where it was. The thing that might be a bed was square and covered in a blanket that was made