Stories tagged “journey”
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The Truth Comes Out
After much deliberation, I decided to talk to John about how I felt. I figured there wasn’t much to lose, seeing as he lives in Kentucky while I’m hours away in West Virginia. It wasn’t like I was going to have to face him every day i...
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On the Road with Quixote
“You are the worst clown I have ever met,” Don Quixote said with as much disapproval as he could muster. The clown sniffed. “And you’re crazy, old man,” he replied, picking at a piece of lint on his blue-and-yellow motley....
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And Captain Morris Said...
Seneca He really is very foreign, isn’t he… mused Seneca as she listened to Sergei chatter on about his journey on the ship, the dolphins he had seen on the way, the friends he had made, and many other things. He doesn’t know when to ...
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desperate passage
June, 1875 The Inscrutable rocked gently in the harbor. Ropes creaked and strained, as gray water and cold rain splashed against the hull. Her captain looked across the rail at the hopeful few who had made it past the barricades, and now waited on the ...
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Ginger: The Spice of Life
“I shouldn’t waste any more time here,” I said, trying to be resolute. I’d never left Harken before. I wasn’t even aware there was anything beyond Mapless, and found that the idea both intrigued and terrified me. “Be...
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The soul at the end of the road
As she approached the Source, she felt her soul become lighter within her. She could feel the warmth of the place envelope her. Here, the spirit that plagued her was weak. She finally felt as if she could relax. However, as she walked, she sensed the p...
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Laying on the Floor
On the bare floor of the now cleared out apartment, Valarie lay as still as she could. Her clothes had felt cumbersome and false, projections of assumed expectations, so she shed them. The fan circled lazily doing little more than giving urgency to the...
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On Endless Paper Oceans
My telephone was ringing A man was on the line And asked if I was feeling fine His sentences were stringing. He asked if I’d had notions Of diff’rent states of being He spoke about a land of seeing O’er endless paper oceans. He talked...
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What Will Life Offer Me In This Journey
Another night alone, sitting at my desk. I look in the mirror; I expect to see a man filled with riches. A heart filled with gold, a mind so brilliant. Sigh all that is to see is me, in my torn up jeans, bagging shirt that hasn’t bin washed in a whil...
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Ginger: The Old World
The tunnel ran alongside the castle wall for several hundred yards. I had never seen a wall so long, and of course only a small portion of its height was exposed here in the underground passage. I could only wonder how enormous the castle was and how h...
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Ginger: Navigating the Darkness
It must have been more than a day that I crept through the muddy pitch blackness. I lost all track of time. I know that I fell asleep at one point, laying my head upon my satchel in the ankle-deep sludge. When I awoke nothing had changed; all was silen...
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Ginger: Arrival
I hadn’t been traveling down the tunnel toward Generatia for long when I noticed the path was beginning to slope gently upwards. Presently the mud gave way to solid ground, and the dirt walls to something rather like stone on all sides. And then ...
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Cupid in Many Forms
The clown stared at Don Quixote with more disbelief than he normally mustered. “Seriously, old man? Seriously?” “Good fellow, my sincerity is not in question.” Quixote ran a gloved hand along his mount’s shell. “I as...
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The forest
There was something in the forest, they said. Something valuable. Many had set off to find it, they said. But none had ever returned. Then how do they know there is something there? But I am a sucker for tales such as these, and my mind was already ma...
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Afraid of the dark
The forest was old – that much was certain. Ancient trees hung with moss, roots all tangled together. It was also dark; and the air was dank. The forest filled me with terror – what ghosts and spirits are in here? What demons await me? ...
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Promise's Journey (1)
Promise galloped away, fear in her eyes as the female matriarch chased her away from the other colts and fillies in the herd. She plunged into the undergrowth, and, as usual, she was followed. After what seemed like an age, the female turned back and P...
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The Rusted Locket - Part II
Sipper Trazinotch would describe Badgison Wit Lundy as a Tall Glass of Water. But, he calls everyone and everything a tall Glass of Water, except Tall Glasses of Water. He calls those large transparent cylinders of clear liquid. Sipper is weird. Badgis...
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There Are No Days
There are no days, someone once said. And he was right. There are no days, no nights, we’ve left behind. He knew that now even as he walked. On the road, along the path. When one walked along the trails of tomorrow, the personifications of all un...
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From A To B
I find that simple is sometimes best, To get the message across. So instead of deciphering rhyme schemes, The meaning slips through like floss. Don’t count yourself out yet, that you can’t quite rhyme like me. If you were ever able to match my styl...
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War
Kills Blood trickles In the fight Dead soldiers drift into the light— Souls seep From punctured holes Life is put to sleep As each sense grows To six and on— beyond what the living knows: The end Means that you extend forever Removed from...
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Drought Road
No preparation, just a troop of soldiers bringing orders and mayhem. Within two hours I had been assigned as keeper of a medium-sized dragon named Lindquist. Her scales ranged from deep violet to light purple, accentuating the depth of her golden eyes ...
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Lessons Learned
Boah knew better than to test the captain’s orders, especially ones so specific and simple. He had already filled the quota of 50 passengers, so he hardly noticed the tall pale man who blocked his return to the ship. He was about to push past whe...
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Let's Read
Click Click Click Words were drawn to my screen from a distant source. Held there, signaling for my attention. I the spider, considering my next juicy morsel. Would I find a poem? A risqué tale about two lovers? A zombie holocaust? Or kids on a swing?...
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The Messenger
Heat from within his darkened belly and the rim of his hat shading his face he walked alongside his horse, bridle in hand. His horse carried red and brown continents patterned across a sea of white hide. He stopped and stared into the vast distance of ...