Monday
Apr102017

The Burning Villages

Redwood loved the deep woods. There among the trees, when all was silent, he felt more alive than ever. Had a passerby seen him they could easily mistake him for a tree with his large, towering frame, dark green leaves, and red bark, except for one fact— trees don’t carry great swords . . .

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Monday
Apr102017

The Colony

It was raining, but that didn’t stop the aliens. Leaning back in her seat at the quiet cafe, Claire was thinking about them again. It had been a long day of classes, and when it started pouring on her way to her small apartment, she had ducked into the cafe and soon found herself sitting alone by the window with a cup of hot coffee. When her mind had started to wander, her thoughts turned to the rather large spaceship that had landed in the park across the street from her apartment building. No aliens had been seen since the spaceship appeared a year ago, but the park had been swarming with scientists and government officials. All of the news channels were constantly talking about it; nobody talked about anything else anymore. Claire couldn’t help but wonder whether there were actually any aliens inside the spaceship. Maybe it was empty?

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Monday
Apr102017

Artemis and the Hunter

Artemis was the goddess of the hunt, mistress of wild things, lady of nature. She was loved by poets, storytellers, and minstrels alike, singing praise and weaving tapestries of her thrilling hunts as the daughter of Zeus; and Leto, born on the island of Delos. She was the sister of Apollo, god of prophecy. Together, they were inseparable as the ocean to waves, stars to the night sky . . .

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Monday
Mar272017

Spokes

“Here it comes, son.” The old man leans close to him. “Do ya think ya can catch it?” The boy sits up immediately, eyes bright. Over the golden horizon spins a cloud of dust. A million particles all churn at once, reflected in the boy’s pale blue irises . . .

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Monday
Mar272017

Paranoia’s Deceit

The most peculiar thing about old Mr. Weatherly was, without a doubt, his alarming animosity toward humans in general. He loathed them all, from the schoolchildren who lived across the street to the grumpy lady who lived next door. Should someone dare to ring his doorbell, Mr. Weatherly would hobble over to the door with an exasperated grimace on his face, and howl, “You abominable creature! Be gone!” Then, he would slam the door in his or her face without even asking the person why he or she had been knocking on the door in the first place . . .

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