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Bursts liked by james garrison.

Walking up the winding garden path would have been intimidating for anyone else, but for her, it felt like home. The trees writhed and twisted together in the stormy night. Appearing black until the intermittent flashes of lightning briefly bleached them. She carried on up the gravel path. She closed her eyes as she walked...

348 words by N Heathcote

2 Comments
5 Likes

Published 4 years ago

A bowed figure, wooden staff in hand, picked his way wearily along the muddy trail in the pouring rain, his battered leather boots sinking deep into the waterlogged ground with almost every step, his tattered woollen cloak and ragged clothes heavy with water. Every few feet he had no choice but to splash through a pool of...

882 words by R Tarran

6 Comments
7 Likes

Published 5 years ago

Riff sharpened his claws on the rocks. He growled, louder, harder. He peered out of the cave, kept an eye on the incoming waves. For years he'd strutted up and down the cove every day, sending bursts of fire and smoke up the cliff face and searing the chalk to black.
The islanders frightened him. They said he was...

398 words by S Golden

4 Comments
4 Likes

Published 4 years ago

When Freddie said he'd found a portal to another dimension, I laughed.

When he appeared a week later with Parallel Me, it wasn't so funny. Freddie warned us not to touch. Right away I knew I wasn't going to get along with my counterpart. He was taller and stronger and brighter than me.

He lived on Second Earth...

220 words by S Golden

19 Comments
35 Likes

Published 5 years ago

“Fsschictsizzl.”
Arrendal bent over his spellbook, his ear so close to the page he could feel the fine hairs rub against the gold letters he’d laid down so many years ago — before disease had left him blind. He strained to hear it again, afraid it may have been his imagination breaking free of his weary mind.
The...

1217 words by M McClelland

1 Comments
3 Likes

Published 4 years ago

The Lost Tapes

I have no weapons, just a stick that's been sharpened to as razor an edge as a piece of wood can be. Deadly... and utterly useless. The thing that stalks me now is a figment of imagination, an apparition of myth and legend that has no place in this world of airplanes and cellphones. Yet, my burnt leg...

674 words by O Ramos

4 Comments
5 Likes

Published 4 years ago

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