Short Story

Marcus had a bemused look on his face that melted into one of pure incredulity. First she refused to come down, and then , she wandered off without leave? As a naval commander and ship's master, the penalty for any slave who left the person of any officer without leave was to be lashed to the deck for a half day and get 10 strokes of the Cat. And yet, this brazen cocotte with the copper tresses felt free to so disrespect her own Master in his own household?

The Anthem Protests, and Some Football Game We face a situation in the sports world, specifically the NFL, where the games themselves are no longer the most important events happening. No longer are the touchdowns the headline grabbers this season; the controversy surrounding the national anthem has swept the nation and left it divided. The problem has become so out of control that the President of the United States of America has even left his thoughts on the topic. The NFL must fix the problem on their hands. The league is headed towards a civil war as well as total division.

it is life, Mama!” Mama: “Oh—so now its life. Money is life. Once upon a

"You were a cute kid," I say aloud to him, smirking at his baffled expression. He was staring down at me with confusion, probably wondering what was happening and what the hell I was doing. I honestly don't even know what I'm doing myself.

The beeping of a monitor was getting annoying. With the sterile smell and constant humming of technology, Corvus could have really used some music. His body ached from the fight he had won, ached from the damage that was finally catching up to him. His bones had broken numerous times, something he could easily fix. However, now he was just getting his energy back while the lab coat people ran tests on him. They didn't need his consent for anything given the fact that this hospital was not really considered such, but it was the only place he could really go while staying under the radar of the native population here that would be happy to see a bounty hunter like him floating dead in the ocean. Obviously, this was something he did not want,

Mother kisses the top of Clem's head and calls for Dad to bring her school. He sets his newspaper down and gets up. He walks over to me and kisses me on the forehead and grabs my hand, giving it a firm squeeze. This is an odd gesture to me seeing as affection is not necessarily allowed in our city. Apparently it is a form of self-indulgence, which is frowned upon in Rauhallinen.

Slackjawed: that's how I’d put it. The look on that classes faces, or at least the blonde girl’s in the front, will always be a symbol of achievement for me. I put back on my grey hoodie, and slipped on my black beanie, I walked back to my chair in the very back of the room. Sitting down slumped, you never would have guessed what just happened. The classroom crackled out with gentle conversations about what everyone just saw, and both the instructor and I were grinning gently to ourselves. No one expected it from me, and I couldn’t blame them. When the room was back in order, it was like nothing ever happened. The class was orderly again, and I was just the one kid, the quiet but sometimes loud kid, that people knew but didn't know, in the

Jake Simpkins arrived on time to my Groveland office but the odor he brought in with him was noticeable. I think to myself that it is a bit early for whiskey, but apparently not for Jake. I offer him a cup of coffee. “Thanks, I take it black.” He looks a bit disheveled, his polo shirt has a damp spot near the front pocket, and his hair looks messy. While I smell alcohol, I do not observe slurred speech or clumsy movements, so I surmise that Jake isn’t drunk necessarily, but perhaps spilled on himself when he took that morning swig, hence the damp spot on his polo shirt. I take mental notes, to address this during out session. I do take note, that there is a sense of responsibility with Jake, as he brought with him the completed

“OLD MAN WILLIAMS!” she shouted trying to get his attention while abruptly halting her bike.

It looked like the forest was dead, and that it had been dead for years. A cold chill ran against their skin, making it crawl.

You concluded that you were asleep. Everything around you was pitch black and you were in a trace-like state.

It was Saturday morning and I had just woke up. I received an email from the coach that coaches one of the best teams. I could not believe what I had just seen. On the email it wrote “Dear Victoria, I had watched you play in a few games, and I think you would be a good addition to my team. Would you want to come to practice tonight?” I thought to myself, I am not good enough, so maybe I should not go. But as the day went on, I actually thought that I should go just for the experience.

The empty void of nonexistence was full of nothing, home to nobody, and as interesting as nowhere. Currently, however, these were all things of the past in this timeless place, as two old men that now inhabited it were currently bickering; as old men tend to do. One was a man of science whom sat on top of a large machine, covered in exposed wires and flashing lights, that was about the size of a tool shed. The other, a bizarre man to say the least, stood down below at a table that was an organized mess of old tomes, scrolls, and many exotic items used for arcane creations. They went about their odd business with disdain for one another, ever so often pausing to continue their pointless argument. As the bearded man down at the old table

“Hey what about me?” Murfon called to them. Tamblin went around and grabbed Karjon’s lower appendages. This allowed him to hang over the edge. Murfon was then able to grab Karjon and between the three of them got him free as well.

It all starts on the side of Mt. Kilimanjaro, at the science and mining camp Alpha Site 18. Emilio, a black haired, blue eyed, roughed up miner from years of working in other mine shafts and a hard personality with a soft spot for children, was walking toward the main science bay area at request of the head scientist there, Ian Mack.