Old woman with pumpkins
by Giorgio

Comment:
She started her day like any other. Waking up, making and pouring her morning tea. Glancing quickly through the paper that that sweet young boy had been dropping on her doorstep for a couple of years now. She always greeted him with a smile and a sweet. A chat over the balcony with her neighbor, Greta, about this and that and days gone by.

Then she would begin the chores of the day. Whatever needed doing. This morning it was the leaves on the side of the house. They'd fallen quickly this year, and she'd been put a little behind. She grabbed her broom from the corner where it had rested for so many years. A creature of habit, was she. Then began her task.

It wasn't long, however, before she began to feel a little more tired than usual. Perhaps it was the work. Perhaps it was due to the lack of sleep she'd been having lately. Perhaps it was just one of those days. She took one final sweep, and then sat down on her usual stool. Other than being tired, she felt good. Nothing to be alarmed about. Just needed to close her eyes for a moment. Yes, close her eyes and rest. Recharge.

It was Greta that found her a few hours later, sitting there still, broom in hand, eyes closed as if in a deep and gentle sleep. Yet at some point, that morning, her sleep had deepened to that sleep from which we do not waken. At some point, she had passed to a land beyond this one, to rest forever more.

Old Neighbors
by trevytrev

Comment:
She sat there, with her pad of paper and a set of charcoal pencils by here side. She came out here often, to get away, to relax, to recharge. She especially came out here when her father was in one of his 'moods'. Oh, yes, she definitely came out here then.

This was one of those days. He was usually kind and gentle, her father, but sometimes he was a different man. Sometimes when the drink flowed a little quicker than usual, sometimes when she or her mother said just the wrong thing, sometimes when it was simply that an object was out of place in his personal world of order, he changed.

She had recognized that change early, this time, and had escaped out here, to this field. Her favorite place. She would sit and feel the wind and listen to the sounds and sketch whatever came to mind. Today, she had decided to turn this field into something more. On her pad, she would transform this field into a little hideaway for herself. Something more than just the flowing grasses in front of her. Something she could come to even on the rainy days, or in the months of snow-fall.

So she began, choosing a spot for a large and elder tree. She loved trees, and the shade they provided, and the enjoyment of climbing their inviting branches and hiding there, and pretending she was a nymph of the wood. Smiling at the thought, she glanced up from her work, and nearly dropped it on the ground.

There before her, leaves blowing in the breeze, was her tree. A gasp of shock escaped her, and she quickly looked to her drawing, then up again. There was no mistaking it. It was her tree. She had drawn it, and there it was. In an older person, perhaps, this would be cause for fear, would cause them to leave this place and never return. Not she. She was 16, still young enough to somehow simply accept this curious and magical turn of events, but old enough to then get a sly look on her face as she picked up another pencil. She had wanted to simply sketch an imaginary getaway, but now...

Now she sketched furiously, madly. Putting line to paper as fast as her fingers would allow her. When she was done, she looked up, and a giant grin lit her face from ear to ear. It had worked again. A little hut, quaint and simple, stood by her tree. As if in a dream, she slowly stood, and walked to that place. Her imaginary hideout made real.

Never again was she able to recreate that moment. Never again was she able to create in reality what she drew from imagination, but never again did she need to so badly. She had her getaway, and in years to come it would be her salvation and sanctuary for all of life's hardships.

my galvanized tub
by XMountaineer

Comment:
*FLASH!*

Jimmy turned, shocked, and yelled at his mother.

"Whatcha doin?! Can't ya see I'm havin' a BATH here!?"

Of course, all his mother heard was, "Yaaah gabba ba-ba coooo". She laughed at her precious little guy, and Jimmy?

Jimmy plotted his revenge.

Valley of the Shadow
by Les_Feck

Comment:
It was a conspiracy theorist's worst nightmare, or dream come true, depending on how you wished to look at it.

It started on the morning of the 13th, a Friday, aptly enough. First, just hints and wisps. To many people, it was no more than some crazy stunt plane blowing colored smoke, or a fire-fighting plane dumping its retardant. At first, not much thought was given to it.

It was when the red colored dust, if that was what it was, started appearing over every country, growing more and more prominent, showing up in scattered news casts all over the globe, that people began to worry.

What was it? Where did it come from? Was it dangerous? Nobody had the answers to these questions. Nobody claimed responsibility. Research planes that went up to collect samples never returned. Fear and panic began to spread, as did the red 'dust'.

As the days turned to weeks, and the dust took over the atmosphere, blotting out the sun, humanity turned to pure chaos as panic and looting and cries of the end of days took control. Societies became unglued. Normally calm and intelligent people turned into raving lunatics. Cities were destroyed. Weeks turned to months, months to years, and yet the dust remained in the air, never touching the earth, but it didn't need to. The simple fact of its presence seemed to be enough.

Then, after decades of destruction and genocide and suicides and the bloody Ides of March, when no trace of human existence was to be found on the face of the earth, the dust began to dissipate. A wind formed across the globe and scattered that red menace into nothingness, and the sun shone forth in full glory once again. The foxes peeked out of their dens. The birds began to sing. The breeze rustled branches.

And if the Earth could smile, it may have done so then.

Nature's Curls
by tamatama

Comment:
Trevor and Kevin, like most little boys, loved to occupy their time showing off and making each other laugh, and coming up with as many funny stunts as they possibly could.

"Look Kev! Look, I'm a Yo-Yo!" yelled Trevor, giggling madly

"Oh yea? Watch what I can do!" Kevin called back, curling himself up in a coil.

These silly and simple games kept them busy for hours, and their parents sat back and watched them with amusement, wondering just when that kind of fun began to leave a person.

"Now I'm a snake!" yelled Trevor, and the game continued. Did it matter? Childhood would continue for as long as it would, and the longer the better.

Adam and Eve
by rayg544

Comment:
They didn't remember much. Most of it was a run of confusion, and terror, and noise. He remembered only that he believed it to be the end.

So when his eyes opened slowly, from out of a dream, a dream where he was being violently tossed about by some force he could not see, he found himself gazing into her eyes. She'd been shaking him. Trying desperately to wake him.

He was awake now, and his first thought was how hot he felt. Burning up. A fever? No, not a fever, for now his eyes were looking about, beyond the woman's face, all around him, and he saw flames. Suddenly, he was fully alert and instinct took over. He scrambled to his feet and the woman suddenly burst into tears, with a look of utter relief on her face. She grabbed his arm and pulled him desperately away, towards a door. A door that showed...

Light! There was light there. Shining through the thickening smoke and ash and heat. They stumbled madly for it, and broke through just as a large pillar of steel came crashing down to block that entry for good.

They ran, awkwardly, stumbling, as far from the burning wreckage as they could. Wreckage that belonged to a massive interstellar cruise vessel, now engulfed in flames and destruction. They ran until they felt they were safe and tumbled to the ground, tumbled to the soil of whatever forsaken planet this might be. There they lay, panting, exhausted. There they wrapped each other in an embrace of survival and relief and comfort. There they slept.

He didn't know what woke him. The sounds maybe, unfamiliar, but familiar. Birds, but not like any birds he knew. Wind, rustling leaves and brush, this was familiar, but it was through air that was not like air he knew.

He woke up the woman beside him, and together they stood. Together they looked about at this alien world that was so like, yet unlike, their homeworld. Together they realized that they were the only ones left from the voyage, and that, perhaps, they were alone here. The only two of their kind. Together they realized that they would have to start anew in a new world. A new place. A new Eden.

They were terrified, but they were alive. Together they started on their journey.

Green Eyes
by ryand

Comment:
She rested her head on the back of the swing chair, and gazed into his face as he watched life's busy passing in the cul-de-sac. The little qwirk of a smile as the neighbor kids chased each other from yard to yard. The contemplative look that passed his eyes as Mr. Wilson brought his lawn-mower out of the garage, perhaps he was reminded that his own yard needed mowing? The subtle roll of his eyes as Old Mrs. Catchall came out on her step to get her paper in that flimsy see-through nightgown of hers, always good for a morning chuckle.

Most of all she studied his quiet contentment as watched the world go by on this lovely day. They were still so young, married only a few months prior, and she was still so full of love and awe for him. Still so happy to just watch him watch the world.

He looked over and saw her gaze, and smiled deeply, the light glinting his eyes. "Love you babe." Almost a whisper, as he leaned in and grazed her forehead in a soft kiss. Then, hefting his coffee mug, he stood and stretched. Then he took her hand and helped her out of the swing-chair, and they began another day at the beginning of a new life together.

Autumn Colors
by sfmorris

Comment:
He watched as the others trotted off on their grand adventure, eyes threatening to tear, a quiver in his bottom lip. It wasn't fair. Why was life never fair?

For weeks they'd planned it. A week long ride through the canyon, to the vast open lands on the other side. Space to run and play and laugh and dance, and all the wonders that the Canyon held on the way there, and back.

Now, they were off, and they'd have such stories to tell when they returned, but he, oh no, he had to stay right here. All because of one damnable gopher hole. Now he was going to miss the grandest adventu...

He choked off a sob. It just wasn't fair.

Speak No Evil
by Jaker

Comment:
Darcie walked along the shore, whistling to herself, feeling the light breeze on her face and whispering through her hair. She loved to take walks on days like this, with the sand tickling her toes and the sounds of the sea like music to her ears.

She grinned as she saw a little plover tucking his head beneath his wing closer to the water. Even the birds were relaxing on this d...

*pop*.

She stopped dead, her sudden cease of movement kicking up a small dusting of sand. There was no way that she saw what she thought she just saw. No way. She rubbed her eyes hard and then looked again, but no, now there were two plovers where before there had been only one. But how? It didn't fly in, she'd have seen that. How did it just suddenly...

*pop*.

A little sound escaped her throat just then, a thin keening, like a kettle about to boil. In front of her eyes, a third bird winked into existence, and when it did, it made a little popping noise, not unlike a child learning to pop his cheek. Now, Darcie began to worry. She began to back away from the birds. This sort of thing did not happen. She was going insane. Too much sea air. Perhaps she'd fallen and bumped her he...

*pop* *pop* *pop* *pop* *pop**pop*pop*poppoppopopopopopopopopop*

They exploded out of nowhere, hundreds and hundreds of them winking into existence, appearing everywhere, all around her, endlessly. Darcie's last nerve snapped and she dropped to the ground on her knees, head in hands, her screams drowned out by the popping noise. Then, with a sound like a shotgun in a concrete bunker, the birds took off in unison, and scattered throughout the sky.

But Darcie did not see or hear this last departure. The unreality of it all had unraveled her mind. She remained there, on her knees, unmoving, sightless, deaf, empty.

Dali
by nixter

Comment:
The old man chuckled as he continued on his way. They'd cleaned off his work a hundred times, yet never once did they suspect him. No, never him, the crazy old cowboy that took out the trash.

He chuckled again, and decided that next week he'd give her a Van Dyke.