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?

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

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,

“What the hell is he doing here?” John asked when he opened the motel door to see his son with Sam Campbell.

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

Waking came soon after sleeping had befallen Phil. He sat bolt upright, finding himself in a bed he knew not to be his own. He had no clue where he was. His hands fumbled about for his glasses, hopeless without them. Amongst the blur, he could pinpoint some familiarities but there was nothing concrete. He noticed a few of his knickknacks scattered about the room. The rest of the room, however, was a mystery.

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.

When they entered the ballroom area, the room moved around them like clockwork. Fathers and daughters swirling in synchronization around the center that sat the little orchestra playing a haunting tune. The girl’s dresses flounced out, as their heads were thrown back, eyes closed. The guys of the pair moved to the left, narrowly avoiding some of the spinning couples to come into contact with the most stereotypical male bar room, he had ever seen. Cigar smoke layered over head as fathers and sons took generous sips of whisky and chuckled with their ironically flamboyant hand gestures. The boy seemed to shrink under the atmosphere, and felt a claustrophobic nausea as he made his way closer and closer to the bar. The man working behind it

Sam wakes up soaked in sweat, the morning sun boiling through the windows. A crick in his neck and cramped legs, aching from being tucked into the back seat of the Impala. He can’t help but groan as he feels the back of his t-shirt unstick from the smooth leather. There are similar sounds of misery as Dean tries to peel himself off the front seat and cracks open the car door with a squeak. His heavy booted feet hit the ground with a crunch and Sam can hear Dean’s shoulders pop as he stretches. There's a grumble from his brother as Dean kicks away whatever debris his boots landed on.

I was charging across campus in a daze, only focusing on the handful of memory refreshers in my hand. People were bumping me as I pushed my way through several crowds just trying to get to class on time. I looked down at my pristine steel gray Akribos watch noticing that I had two minutes to get to my Anatomy and Physiology class for my final of first semester. My quick pace immediately turned into a sprint as I still had to journey half way across campus. The brisk fall wind blew my hair against my face as the fall leaves fell from the trees. I ran through the doors of Kela Lecture Hall and flew up the right staircase to find the door to my class slowly closing. I sprinted full speed towards the door and slammed my hand between the wall

Although if anything ever were to happen, she would be a calm voice of reason, because she wisely understood that panicking wouldn’t help anyone, especially herself.

The low murmuring in our head rises to a shout when we step through the doors of the institution. It's here to help, it's here to help it's here to help it's here to- The voices in our head were suddenly shouting over each other, desperate to have their opinions heard. Were gonna die! Were gonna- Help me! Help m-

wide round face with a huge smile and short black hair cut straight as if she had a bowl on her head. Like most Flatheads she was reserved. The top accountant, Gertrude, a local girl exemplified all the typical Flathead features, and appeared quite unattractive wearing glasses as thick as the windshield of a car with a complexion reminiscent of the wicked witch of the east. All in all though the bean counters were a pleasure to work with. They pretty much stayed in the back and criticized all the bookkeeping mistakes the desk clerks made during the day. One could say they were the brains of the operation, as they carried out their duties and kept track of all the beans. As Japes became more and more popular with the staff the Flatheads

The loud crash echoed through the house. Nick frowned and paused the video on his laptop to go investigate. He crept towards the kitchen cautiously. He knew it wasn’t one of the boy's. Only him and Harry were home, the others had gone out shopping for some groceries and other odds and ends.

The next morning, Drusilla emerged from a guest room next to the State Chancellor’s art studio. Dressed in summer clothes and her hair in a French twist, she caught a faint aroma coming from downstairs. Is someone cooking breakfast for the State Chancellor? Hungry and curious, she went to the kitchen.