1 The three followed the tunnel for what felt like days. Their footfalls thumped, but the echoes produced by the obscenely large tunnels were nothing short of monstrous. Ed held the only flashlight, stopping every hundred yards or so to check on the other two. They were his friends. ‘Friends,’ he thought, ‘No, They're more than... Continue Reading →
For someone who writes often, you wouldn't think it'd be difficult to think of something new to write about. The only challenge with Confessions of a People Watcher is that, with the exception of finding stories within theses events, I would like it to be based somewhat in reality. I'm a fiction writer by nature, and... Continue Reading →
He had just finished what could presumably be his first vacation from college life. Seeing his parents must've been something of a treat for him; he was normally never as contempt. It almost seemed as though nothing could ruin his night, but just as fate has a funny way of disturbing peace, the young man started to get a funny itch himself.
Writing. It’s a kind of self-expression that traverses time, space, and even death. What takes someone away so suddenly that they feel they must express it using words, especially when the notion seems inexpressible through any means? I can tell you that I feel it isn't so much about telling someone what your imagination has... Continue Reading →
"Hey man, what's this red button for?" We were having a lazy Sunday afternoon when I noticed a box sitting suspiciously on the coffe table of his study. It was iron-studded with brushed metal panels, a pulsating light under a button the size of a bottle cap protruded from it. My friend walked in, peering... Continue Reading →
It was a warm afternoon downtown. A good friend and I were perusing the sidewalk to check out the new classic movie cinema and asking each other where we'd like to wake up tomorrow morning if given the choice.
My friend and I were in charge of filming his twelve-year-old niece's beauty pageant, meaning we were stuck in the gymnasium of her school for the next two hours. Although it was agreeably one of the most boring things we had ever done, it was fun to think of new categories for the judges to score the girls on to pass the time.
Declan, a poet in the midst of waiting winter to come to an end, follows a mysterious orb in the dark of the night outside of his battle camp. Stumbling upon the mouth of a cave in which the orb has entered; he confronts the owner of the orb. The man in robes, Simon Charleston, better known as the scribe of the White River Kingdom, shows Declan respect and invites him in for a meal, explaining that they have much to speak about. Find out what happens next in part 2 of Words Stronger than Wars.