Antlo: A Short Story

As the last school bell rings, art students put on their winter coats and embark on their short trek to class. Along the snow-covered path lies the newly renovated convent and the homes of the nuns. About half a mile from the main building stands a little white cottage with two separate entrances. It was a haven, hiding place, and work place for the artists of TMLA. The elusive double studio space was mystical and symbolic. There are one small and one large art studios within the art cottage. The aroma of acrylic paint fill the art cottage, masked by the scent of the burning peppermint candle. The sound of the radio echoes throughout the studio.

The bell rang, Arnando had a test to take this morning and wasn't looking forward to it. He was worried that he wouldn’t get a superb grade as he had on past tests. Either way Arnando had to take the test and soon forgot, since he took it on a Friday and was oblivious by the time he was back in school. When Arnando came back to school,he was reminded about the assessment he had taken on Friday, when Mrs. Alexia announced she graded all the tests over the weekend. Arnando began to get a bit edgy and seemed to be worried about the current situation. Soon, Arnando was handed his test back, but the teacher didn’t say “Good job” when she had handed it back to him, like she usually did. When Arnando flipped over his paper, he saw the thing he feared would happen, actually happen. Arnando had received the worst grade he had ever gotten, a

Ernie has always been a little messed up, he has lived in Missouri for the 32 long years of his life. On the day that changed his life forever, November 22, 1996. Him and his family were driving to the mall and they got into an accident. His Mom and Dad both died and Ernie was very depressed. He got the notes, of what made the car accident happen, an inspection failure with the Engine. He did not know what to do with his life. He almost committed suicide, but then out of rage, the decided he was going to make the person who caused the car accident. He went searching for months, and finally came to the conclusion that the person that last assessed the car was Eddie Thompson.

I’ll never forget how frightened and scared I was the day we left Nauvoo. We left our beautiful home and all of our possessions behind as we began our trek West to the Rocky Mountains. We didn’t want to leave but the persecution had become so bad from the people who hated our religion that we had no choice. They burned down our temple and stole our livestock and reports of members of our church being assaulted or killed were becoming more and more frequent. After my father’s business had been broken into and his printing presses destroyed, we had no other option but to leave. So we sold all the possessions that we could and bought a team of oxen. We loaded everything into the wagon, and started a journey that would last over a thousand miles

Today was a boring day her at CTL. I spend the whole day counseling recently released prisoner from a local organizations. Normally I only have about three or four , but today I had ten. Out of all of the cases these was one that I could not wrap my finger around. The case consisted of a twenty fur year old man who was just released from prison three days ago. A lot of people always asked me if I am scared to talked to recently released prisoners. I don’t know why people always think that I am in danger because of my occupation. To be honest the prisoners are more scared of me than I am of them they don’t know what to expect. The first thing that they always say is what doe they think their chances of being accepted by sociality

Henry and Colleen arrive to the address of Ava Badeaux , it was a little shop off Bourbon Street in the city. The outside was a old red brick two story building with bars around the long rectangular windows . They opened the dark green door walking in. The smell inside was of mold and a smokey fruit scent . Voodoo dolls hung from the ceiling , jars of spices and potions on the stained wood shelves covered in spider webs. A altar to there right by the entrance with a sign saying “ do not touch or you shall receive bad luck.” The altar was full of change , dolls and other gifts placed by strangers in hopes of no bad luck in there life. Every step they took , a creak noise appeared step by step . “ May I help you?” They jumped from a female voice

Hola Ken! Hope you have begun well the week, that you are ok and your leg is feeling much better now.

There's really no good place to start. I could start you at the beginging but then you woukdnt understand why i three year old has such strong feelings about the events at hand. I could start you off present day and work backwards but then you's just be completely lost. So lets start somewhere in the middle and buckle your seat belt because were gonna hop around a bit. Anyway lets quit wasting time and begin. The address was 819 Locust. It was a monsterous house that sat on a ridiculously small lot. The amount of land alotted to this home was so minute that it wasnt even granted its own driveway. It shared an extremely narrow gravel path with the neighnoring house. It was a two story house compiled of red brick. Not the romantic sort of red brick that was

Before we moved to the house I live right now we use to live on the other side of Modesto, and I like living there even though it wasn’t

For one morning, after an ephemeral dispute from the night before. Ahote awaken desperately grasping for air.  But only water filled his lungs. Instinctively, his legs begin to kick rapidly in order to maintain his body emerge out of the water. Funny, he thought, how Karma repaid his deeds. While under the benign sky, or to be more exact, under the mealstromatic ocean, Ahote struggles to loosen his wrists from behind his back. For not even the strongest can break free from the grip of a zip tie. With his arms restrain and feeling a lot like 'tired', his enervating legs pushes him afloat against the thrashing force, until he was able to succeed in touching ashore. At last, he made it! Laying flat on his spine to overhaul his exhaustion--while still looking quite blue, not to mention that he was mercifully choking on the cold stale air-- he lifts out an indistinctive guffaw. How strange he felt jollity after gazing into the eyes of Death. And after an ephemeral period of recuperation, Ahote was able to gather himself up onto his feet. "Where must I be found this time?" Muttered he.  Then suddenly, while

“Find Nebuchadnezzar. He is the most powerful square blood, and we need to destroy him for the sake of saving the world. You are worthy of it, my daughter.” This made no sense at all! What kind of Nebuzzar was I supposed to destroy? Why should I destroy him? And… I thought Veles was not a bird. Something was just not right.

I thought they were happy to see me,but when I opened the door to the shack,I saw that everything we owned was neaty packed in cardboard boxes. I froze, the smile I once had was gone, and I felt the tears run down my face. I turned around as I whipped my tears with my sleeves and I ran from my family I couldn't leave now. I could hear my dad saying “A dónde vas” I didn't bother looking back,I felt as if I was in a world filled with nightmares that only come true. Suddenly I could I stopped running I could no longer hear the loud voice of my dad calling my name. I sat down at the nearby bus stop and I noticed a man watching he was sleeping on the ground with a cart full of cans, he was dirty his clothes had dirt and stains and ruffles I wondered

“We need to get more money into our pockets and those agreements should be good for now.” she said to them, “We will get to your reform act some day, Jaquez. We are just too much in debt to focus on the army.”

There it was, a big grey scorpion hanging on the rope above my son, Coyotito. In my mind a new song had come, the Song of Evil, the music of the enemy, of any foe of the family, a savage, secret, dangerous melody, and underneath, the Song of the Family. My body started to become rigid, I was terrorized by the thought of what could happen if the scorpion fell on Coyotito.

Once upon a time when there was no color in the world there was a family of moose. They were a normal family. All except the youngest daughter moose, Kwynci. “Why is everything so grey and dull?” She asked her father. A curious one she was. Her father answered with a simple “Thats the way it is, and will always be.” Unwillingly she accepted his answer and went on to softball practice. She passed the colorless stream, the colorless meadow, and then over the colorless hill when she approached an old porcupine who was struggling with carrying a glass box. Being the caring moose she was she decided to offer the porcupine help carrying the box, knowing that she had some time before practice. “Beware Moose, the pathway to my house is not one made