It began with whispers in the corridors of power, rumors of austerity measures looming on the horizon. Soon, those whispers turned to harsh decrees as the government tightened its grip on the nation's finances. The impact rippled outward, reaching even the remote corners.
Houses that had once been filled with laughter and warmth now stood as hollow
shells, their windows boarded up against the encroaching darkness. The factories that had once churned out goods and prosperity now lay silent and abandoned.
But amidst the desolation, there remained a flicker of life. The town's aging population, those who had weathered many storms and refused to be driven from their homes, still walked the streets. They were ...
They never let me speak in a place like this. Where the darkness of the world is hidden by white beams of light radiating off of the skin of those around me.
In a place where the sun is below and warms the air beneath our feet, and the air is full of fine dust and radiation. This place where the word "demon" is a sin.
"Zoni," my guardian calls. Her sharp
words pull my eyes towards her.
"You've been summoned."
Upon the day of my eighteenth birthday, I am to be "fixed" so that I may never spread the genes of a demon in Utopia, if I make it that far. Today, my life is to be challenged, put up for a vote like a fattened cattle.
I nod and watch the soft swish of my guardian's feathered wings.
Pain. All that registered to Clover was pain. An intense throbbing in their right ankle, accompanied by spears of agony with the slightest pressure. But they had to keep moving, no matter how much it hurt to move.
Clover, a small, scared preteen with short, curly brown hair and green eyes, couldn't turn back now. With only the stars to guide them, they
limped farther and farther from the crumbling brick house that they had lived in for all of their life.
They used to love it there, with their old tree fort and the creek back in the woods, but lately it had felt more and more like a prison. A prison that they yearned to leave, to escape the crushing hold of their mother. You see, Amelie had no idea how muc...
The full type of CDR is a Competency Demonstration Report. A report characterizes that the abilities and information on a specific designing understudy satisfies the Australian guidelines. A report is examined by the surveying authority before they enroll an understudy. The CDR must report is composed accurately on the grounds that in light of this single
record it would be dissected whether the designer is good for the specific work or not. For unfamiliar understudies who wish to take up a task as an CDR Engineers Australiathis CDR reports concludes regardless of whether they would be allowed to get moved to Australia. The center archive assists you with getting an Aust...
Four friends chalk out a plan for a picnic on holiday and encounter an unprecedented incident in their lives. It was a pleasant Sunday morning when all the four-step out of their homes to enjoy the beauty of nature. After a grueling journey, they plan to languid in some guest house as the dusk had set in and find a decent one at last. One of the friends,
Rocky becomes rambunctious on seeing the guest house and insists on a midnight sojourn so that they could invigorate themselves and head on for a journey in the dawn. The moment they enter the house, the receptionist gives a warm welcome with a broad smile and registers their names. But Alex, who is a brother of Rocky, gives a dubious stare at the receptionist ...
Sophia walked on the plain grass [insert very detailed description on how she walked on the plain grass]
She then saw BOB who will be relevant to the story but you don’t know it yet. Yay the text is bigger. Sophia walked to Bob and proceeded to say the following things:
“Hello, I’m Sophia.”
“Women are stupid.”
“Have you seen the weather today?”
“Writing is a meaningless hobby of a bunch of delusional people that try to imitate real life but end up failing as they miserably fall to the bottom and try to work themselves up again only to fall once again.”
“I like pie.”
“There she goes!”
The crew scurried to their stations in preparation of the coming hunt. Captain Mak, a young simral female stepped onto the bridge of the Karrako, her pride and joy. The two of them have spent many years together: smuggling, pirating, and now, poaching.
Captain Mak’s criminal career began a long time ago, and caught the attention of
her current employer, the Syndicate in the Stars. She quickly accepted their commission and legally became a trade ship to the authorities. On the other hand, she hunted Quolline and extracted their gas for nefarious purposes. Mak knew it had something to do with narcotics, but she didn’t care enough to know the details. All she knew she had to do was to ...
I’m stuck in a life that I don’t want. I’m stuck in a house with no way out. I’m suffocating. I have room and space, but I’m suffocating. I’m drained. I don’t sleep and I don’t move, but my mind and body are drained. Why? Why do I feel this way? I don’t know. You’ve always told me, I’m fed, I’m clothed, and I have a roof
over my head. Is that not enough? When you were a kid, you did anything for your mom. You got up at dawn and cleaned the house. You made sure the carpet had vacuum lines, and that there was never a single dirty dish in the sink. You never asked her for anything and you always made sure she was comfortable and happy. When you went to school, you walked. Even in...
It was cold. I woke up. I left my bed as a ghost and carried myself out to the kitchen. I was hungry. The words in the cupboard were stale, though, so I crept to my parents’ room. I could smell their dreams and thoughts. I ate the color from their minds quickly.
I went outside. I could still see the stars. They beckoned, yes, yes, come with us. So I did.
I danced up towards the sky and began to travel among them. Then, the sun burned. The sun burned so brightly that I could not help but toy with it. No, no, the stars cried. Not that way. I held the sun in my hands, the supernova of the century begging for me to incite it. Not yet.
By noon I was ravenous. I plucked the ears from corn and ate the eyes strai...
You are making me feel guilty for everything that I do, making me feel small, like my feelings don't matter, i am a 19 year old woman. i am mature enough to make my own decisions with thinking of the consequences. you make me feel like a child again, a sad one for that matter. you say that my feelings are dramatic or that i am overreacting but truth is, how
you feel about yourself is how you treat me. and you are afraid of revealing your true feelings to me so you make up excuses about my life to justify your actions and why you treat me the way you do. i don’t know what goes on inside your mind but i am sure that you have come to realize that verbally and physically abusing me is wrong. no human deserves to ...
Old Glass broke under your shoes as you ran making a horrible cracking sound. The woods were full of old bottles and porcelain that were fun to collect, you would see which sibling could find the Best Thing. You were the raining champ with a rusty bottle of denture cream displayed proudly on your shelf. But right now you hatted these woods you wanted to
leave them as soon as possible. Your legs stung from running as you were never an athletic person, always skipping gym class, you regret that now. The grown-ups always said not to be here when it got dark. They always said to be home at sunset or you would be punished. You thought they were just being silly, it's a small town everyone knows everyone, what could ...
“Montaine, Jesus fuck I aint dying so some crime lord can have some peace of mind tonight!” Kevin gripped tightly to the piloting controls of his ship.
There was a loud noise and a proximity alarm sounded. Montaine observed the situation as calmly as he could from his prison cell. Evidently, though the bounty hunter had taken every precaution, the
syndicate may have found him. Whether by the judgment of galactic government or the law of his own people Montaine would be executed. After all the lives he had taken he no longer cared for judgment. In his mind there was no penance. He never wanted to become a monster.
In a cigarette infected throaty voice Montaine spoke with hints of a French accent. “Misu...
You hear a violent, disturbed scream. You have no clue where you are or why you’re here. You have two choices, scream for help or observe your surroundings. You decide that the best course of action is to observe your surroundings, that way you’ll know if you’re actually in any sort of danger. You figure looking around may provide you with some sort of
tool for protection, just in case.
You slowly open your eyes and realize that you are in a padded room. White pads surround you. The room isn’t in good condition at all, the pads on the ceiling are peeled back ever so slightly. The floor’s padding is worn down to a thread, someone has obviously been pacing around the room. The wall’s padding h...
He walked to the other side of the grand room, inching closer to the tall dark brown cabinet, and reached for the pack of markers. He examined the markers, trying to find one that matched perfectly.
After a few moments Luke came running through the hallway and into Christopher’s room, barely sidestepping past a red toy car. “How’s this?” He
questioned, handing Christopher both markers.
“Hmm” Christopher closely examined, “It’s close enough.” He turned to the board, and filled in the words. Luke watched, almost holding his breath. “Well, it's done.” Christopher turned to him, handing the finished product over. Luke stared, silently.
The lines on Ryan King's face were prominent and his glasses pressed squarely against his dull blue eyes. The front of his greasy, short grey hair was thinning, and what was left of it was combed to the side. He wore an olive green jacket over a white t-shirt with faded blue denim jeans…
“Trick or Treat” Luke smiled, holding out his bag.
there” The man spoke beady-eyed. “What’s your name?”
“Luke” He grinned, “What’s yours?” “My name is Ryan.” Luke noticed Ryan’s eyebrows were clusters of grey hair with streaks of brown, the color that they once were.
Ryan scanned Luke from head to toe, head faintly tilting. “Are you dressed as Marty McFly? From Back to the...