The Race - Short Story“It’s your race and yours alone. Others may run it with you but no one can run it for you.”The Race - Short Story3 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
How right they are. Even now I feel my heart slam against my ribcage. Any time now, the bones will shatter, piercing my flesh with shards like daggers. Why am I so nervous? There is no life and death, no risk of harm, no exam encroaching - yet this dread is all consuming. It is so constant now, like my stomach is a storm threatening to break loose. Waves of anxiety surge through my brain, exploding against my skull as though desperate to break from the turmoil. Thunder crackles overhead, making my temples ache.
I am just another person, another student, another racehorse. I trudge along an unending road filled with others, yet alone I walk. I pull behind me a cart of text books and assignments; pet projects and exams papers; hopes and dreams. They weigh on me like lead – a burden of my own making. Of course, it is my choice to do this. I may tip the weight from my c
Love Love, a simple four letter word, what does it mean, what does it do? Why are we infatuated with love? Perhaps we should break it down a bit, let's get the websters definition. Websters Dicitionary provides three definitions for the word Love, the first being, "a feeling of strong or constant affection for a person" The second, "attraction that includes sexual desire : the strong affection felt by people who have a romantic relationship" and the third, "a person you love in a romantic way" So now we understand there are three different variations of the word love. I suppose four if you include my personal definition.Love1 day ago in Short Stories More Like This
Let's take a look into Websters first definition, "A feeling of strong or constant affection for a person." Well we know that feelings are tied to your emotions and if you have a strong or constant emotion you're really feeling for someone, such as if you have strong hatred towards somebo
Der Rausch Byliśmy zakurzeni, zaniedbani przez innych mimo królewskiego pochodzenia. Nikt nie zwracał uwagi na iskry w naszych spojrzeniach, na gęstniejące między nami oddechy. Nikt nie przestrzegał nas przed kamieniami, cierniami i piaskiem. Widzieliśmy tylko brzoskwinie, tak nęcące do zerwania ich z drzew i skosztowania.Der Rausch3 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
Raz zasiany chwast zakiełkował i wyrósł, odbierając mi możliwość bycia synem imperatora. Zdominowała mnie trucizna, która nie znała podziału na przyjemność i ból, która była podburzana z każdym naszym spotkaniem. Uwielbiałem to upokorzenie – odurzało jak kwiaty lilaku, zlepiało myśli jak żywica. Bezskutecznie walczyłem z panterami, lwami i tygrysami. Leżałem w łóżku wiele dni i wiele nocy. Badali mnie medycy, uzdrowiciele odmawiali modlitwy, w
The GiftThe GiftThe Gift3 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
In the begining, when God made man, he gave him a gift, he said: "Take this heart made of the purest cristal ever to exist", man thanked God and accepted his gift, but God told him, "This gift shall be yours until your death, then you will give it to me", "Take care of it as if it were you", and men gained the ability to love…
But then a creature named Greed told him if he could borrow it, promising him wealth and possesions, men accepted, a year later Greed returned him the Crystal Heart, it was almost the same, except it looked a bit dirty, he didnt pay mind to it, and went on his way…
Then he met a being called Hate, he too asked him if he could borrow his gift, he promised him strength and proteccion, men once again foolishly accepted, two years later Hate returned it, by now the Crystal Heart looked quite dirty, but he thought God wouldnt mind, He could always cleen it later…
A couple years later he met a gourgeos women named Lust, she also asked for the
Death Diary (Entry 57)Death Diary (Entry 57)3 days ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
I’m standing at a cemetery…the gravestones of thousands of fallen warriors rest at my feet. A light fog coats the land and the names of men and women who met me are engraved on the rocks and on my heart. I do not often visit cemeteries, as ironic as I know that sounds, for they are cold and tragic places…and I face enough of those things on a daily basis. However…today is a special occasion.
Memorial Day…a day where, in the United States, the entire country takes pause to remember their fallen warriors. Many men and women who gave their lives defending the freedoms that this country so proudly stands for. Oh yes, I am a proud supporter of Memorial Day, for nothing is more sacred or more honorable than a warrior who fights and sacrifices himself for what he loves and holds dear. I should know…because I’ve met them all.
You may never know what it’s like, to walk upon the battlefield and to face danger head on. Often
Kennedia's Journal: Entry #2My mother always told me that flowers were natures way of reminding people that there is hope in a world so dark. Before Hollow Baston, there was Radiant Garden; every inch of this town was covered in flowers of all colours, shapes and sizes. She often took me on walks around the town, naming each flower we passed by and explaining what each represented and what story they had to tell. Yellow roses symbolised friendship, and bloomed brilliantly in the presence of true loyalty; the Tiger Lily symbolised ambition, and were often gifted to those who showed promise in their studies. Elderweiss symbolised courage, and was well known to ward off evil. My mother also mentioned that they are referred to as ‘Ultimate Love Charms’ of the mountains; she told me tails of how love struck young men would take on quests to hunt for the Elderweiss in the high mountains, yet many died due to falling or sudden weather changes. She claimed she was blessed because her Elderweiss came to her, mKennedia's Journal: Entry #22 days ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The Beautiful ChrysalisOne day a lepidopterist was taking photographs of butterflies, when he came across a chrysalis. Seeing the lepidopterist, the chrysalis wrapped itself up tightly in its cocoon. The lepidopterist asked the chrysalis, "why are you hiding?", and the chrysalis responded, "I am no longer a cute caterpillar, and I have yet to mature into a beautiful butterfly. I am but an ugly chrysalis; I do not want you to photograph me this way."The Beautiful Chrysalis2 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
To this, the lepidopterist countered, "ah, but I think you are the most beautiful of them all. The butterfly's patterns are well documented, and few can resist the lure of the cuddly caterpillar, but the chrysalis is the most magnificent; in its form one can see hints of the metamorphosis by which a caterpillar grows wings and becomes a butterfly. What could possibly be more incredible to behold?"
Flattered, and sensing that the lepidopterist's interest was genuine, the chrysalis slowly emerged from its cocoon, and permitted the lepidopterist to photograph it. In
Another Day in ParadisePhilip David Charles “Phil” Collins is an English-born Irish singer, songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist, who is most renowned for his career as an enigmatically powerful drummer and lead vocalist for Genesis, and also for his worldwide solo artistry. He was very heavily inspired by his personal life in his writing, especially in his political and religious “Another Day in Paradise”; an anti-homelessness anthem inspired by his daughter Joely’s work with the “Angels” charity, in providing food for the poor and the homeless…Another Day in Paradise2 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
-A High Street in the Centre of Town… January, 1990-
He doesn’t listen to me.
“Sir, can you help me? It’s cold… it’s so cold, and I have nowhere to sleep. I have nowhere to sleep.”
No… he doesn’t even notice me.
“Is there… is there somewhere you can tell me…?”
And just like that… just like that, he is acr
How Depression Was BornHow Depression Was BornHow Depression Was Born1 day ago in Short Stories More Like This
Once upon a time, there was a thing called sadness. Sadness was a lonely, miniscule breath of life. He kept to himself, eyes twinkling with unfortunate thoughts. There was no one who ever cared for him..he was quiet, melancholy, and never knew anything but the dark rather than rays of sunshine that seemed to run from him.
Of course, one could only seethe with insanity from being alone for so long, guilty of nothing. Sadness knew nothing but his own self, so he decided one day to infect others. He would wait until the happiest point of someone’s life, then latch his claws into the depths of their heart. Sadness would infect their mind and soon even their friends and family. Many would ask- why did Sadness not become the name, Mad? Well, Sadness could never feel anything but despair from never feeling like he had completed his task of revenge against those who had left him alone for so long.
Sadness was never satisfied even when he had made sure to frequentl
MaestroHe wasn't the kind of man many wanted to be associated with. For all that he was a musical genius, this man never seemed to smile. His face was a hardened mask of sharp lines, a stern-set mouth and eyes that seemed made of ice. They called him cold, unfeeling. They said he pushed his musicians to their limits without remorse.Maestro2 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Of all the things said about this man, it was never to his face and it boiled down to one pure, distilled fact: This man was not happy unless his musicians were playing for him.
He wasn't happy unless they played.
Tonight, the concert hall was filled to capacity. Tonight, a concert was to play and it was expected of the Maestro to lead, producing only excellence.
The audience itself was a hard thing to judge: Men and women filed in fully dressed to the nines and by that alone, one might expect a formal affair, one fit for a symphony concerto. By the sound of various conversations, that is indeed what was expected. They sat down awaiting something refined, perhaps
UntitledWalking slowly through the forest, numerous beaded dew shimmer my winding path, I sense the shadows moving slowly nearby changing shapes every so often, stalking me as though primeval predators sense their prey, the evening sun creates crimson roses in the heavens above, yet darkness is approaching, menacingly seeking to dim my warm heart, memories of you drift into me, your gently glowing smile gives me strength no matter how distant we are, shining my way through the unknown,Untitled2 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Eucalyptus RegnansEucalyptus Regnans3 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The spirit in the tree saw the young creatures on the ground. He invited them into his branches, where they would be protected from the animals on the ground and the harsh sunlight. The creatures climbed the tree, where they each had a branch to themselves.
The creatures had many children in the safety of the branches. These children ran around the branches of their parents, where there was the space and comfort of their home. They stayed away from children from the other branches, because they didn’t need any more than they had.
Then, after years, the tree had grown much bigger, and the children grew and had children. Things were quiet, until the spirit in the tree looked up and saw all his new branches. He wondered which of the many children would once again like to see above the trees, like their ancestors did. The children nearest the top argued that they had been at the top for so long, it only made sense to keep things the same. The children at the bottom argued that after
An Endless CycleIn my short years on this earth I have done so many things. Great things. Amazing, terrifying and life changing things... Terrible things. I have always been told to never regret the choices I make; they are not mistakes but unfortunate opportunities. And trust me, I've had a few of those.An Endless Cycle3 days ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Loving him was not a mistake.
It was invigorating; freeing. He opened the window to my soul and like a caged bird being released for the first time, I soared. Money was no object, time was no restraint. We made choices in the here and now - not with our heads stuck in the future like our parents demanded. He gave me memories that would stay with me forever - words of wisdom that would haunt me in the darkness of the night when I lie alone. He gave me freedom. Passion. Fireworks...
it wasn't leaving him that was my biggest mistake; it was letting myself do it over and over again. Falling into the same cycle of love, passion, fear and abandonment. I am my own worst enemy.
But to have the chance