Childhood
by choltmeier

Comment:
It was a beautiful sunny day. Melissa had run off a little ahead, and her mother had called for her to stay close, stay where she could see her, but on a day like this a child has little heed for the half-hearted words of a parent. A day like this was meant for running, and dancing, and jumping, and playing. A day like this was meant for exploration and discovery.

So it was she found herself at the water's edge, in the sand, so pliant to her fingertips as she etched designs and pictures on the surface. So it was that she was focused so intently on the bric-a-brac and her own little world of imagination. So it was that she didn't notice the rippling of the water just a few feet from shore, a rippling that soon grew an ominous and oily shadow that seemed to suck in the glare of the sunlight. Had she looked up, for even an instant, that dark and evil patch in the water would have sent her screaming for her mother. She didn't look up, not today, not on a day like this, when the sand begged for her childhood hieroglyphics.

Then, with barely a registering movement, the shadowy, oily patch in the water began drifting towards her. It seemed to grow as it came. 20 feet away, now 10, now 5. She laughed to herself as she continued to draw in the sand, the sun warming her face, her smile bright, her eyes awash with delight, and that shadow came. Only inches from where the sand touched the water, gathering in on itself so that it became thick, solidifying... it touched the sand.

"MELISSA! WE'RE GOING!"

The voice broke her reverie, and she stood suddenly and ran off to that commanding call, leaving her sand drawings behind, never realizing how close she had come to never responding to her mother's calls again. Some time later, another walker happened by that very spot, and stopped to puzzle about a strange mark in the sand there, as if a giant rake had brushed the beach and pulled the sand there into the water. He then shook his head at the puzzle and walked on.

the Secret
by tate

Comment:
"Psst, guess what I just found out. I just heard Mommy talking to Daddy. We get to go to DISNEYLAND!"

Even at that young and tender age, you can't deny the power of Disneyland.

I Believe I Can Fly ...
by MaryO

Comment:
They'd found her those 5 years ago, lying in a clump of grass, dirty and abandoned, crying. Normally, it'd have been considered a meal, that small and helpless thing. It wouldn't have stood a chance.

Cartha and her brood, however, were not normal. They'd always been a bit of an outcast group among their kind. They preferred to feed on scraps instead of carrion, and for this they'd been forced from the community. So it was fortunate for this tiny babe, abandoned here for whatever reason, that it was Cartha's clan that happened upon her. Some stroke of fortune, or perhaps a gift from some higher power, they'd never know.

What they did know is that they tended to that child, feeding it, keeping it warm, caring for it, and it grew with them and became one with them. Now, these 5 years later, Cartha new it was time to set the child free, to be with its own kind and so she set out to teach it to fly and go off to search for her own.

It was a disaster.

Hiding from Alex Saberi
by srugolo

Comment:
Gary sighed. He really, really, really had to stop falling asleep on these road trips. His pals could be SUCH bastards.

Friends
by SDW

Comment:
Day 138: We've come to a clearing after a few days making our way through the woods. It's been a tough time. Darrell punctured his leg on an old rail-spike and has been in a lot of pain lately. He's been resting as much as possible, but I'm worried. Without access to the simple medications that we had come to take for granted in the world -- before -- I'm terrified of the chance of infection. So far it doesn't seem to have turned bad, but who knows? This isn't the old world anymore. Anything can happen.

We have yet to run into anyone else since leaving the old house, but I don't know that that is such a bad thing. I'd only wish to meet a doctor right now, but what are the chances of that? As far as we know, most of humanity is gone now.

I watch the sun as it disappears below the horizon, and the quality of light is so strange now. It is like the air is burning all the time, but it doesn't seem to have affected much of the plant life. Can't say the same about animal life. That's another thing. We haven't seen or heard nary a sound from animals. No birds. No dogs. No squirrels. Nothing. Sometimes I wonder if we two are the only things left breathing on this entire globe.

Well, I must finish for tonight. Darrell is going off to scrounge for some food. Berries or roots, I don't know. Just something to tide us over until the next town we can scavenge in and refill our packs. Darkness falls so I must get a fire going. Tomorrow we'll move on. Maybe tomorrow we'll find someone else. Maybe tomorrow we'll move closer to finding out what happened.

Maybe tomorrow.

)oOo(
by Gabriel

Comment:
Psst. Hey kid. Yah, you. C'mere. You like the tree right? Fancy lights, pretty ornaments, yummy candy canes, presents below. Hey, I know all about it, but none of them are as special as me. C'mere kid, look into my face. That's right, look closer, closer... closer.

Barney, the man-eating tree, had used his magical swirling ornament to ensnare another meal. 5 people went missing in that Christmas Tree Farm that year, and the owner, Old Man Bartley had finally been arrested, accused of murdering them. Nobody ever discovered the truth.

Waiting for Sixteen
by aimeethetoo

Comment:
She sat, alone, and pouted.

What am I doing here? Where am I going? Will I pass this year? Will I ever graduate? Why don't my teachers like me and why are they always on my case and why do I always get so much homework and why doesn't Danny call me anymore he said he would and he says he loves me but Jenny says he saw him with Angie on the weekend and I hate him I'll show him I'll hit on Trevor I think Trevor likes me but he smokes and I don't like smokers and my dad would kill me if he thought I was seeing a smoker oh no I told dad I'd get home right away to help him clean out the garage I'm in shit I bet he doesn't let me watch Survivor tonight I'll have to find out what happens from Barbara and he'd better let me go to the party at Sarah's on the weekend and why does my life have... to...

SUCK.

She sat, alone, and pouted.

Chased
by mitalapo

Comment:
It had been a dream of his for as long as he could remember. Since childhood, when his father took him to watch a marathon in the city. The sights, the sounds, the crowd, the labor of the runners, the exaltation of the winner.

Yes, he'd dreamed of this moment for so many years. Now, after months of training, he could feel it. Smell it. Taste it. He was leading the pack by hundreds of lengths, and he had so much more yet to give, and the finish line was just in front of him. Smiling, he looked back to check the distant runners, satisfied at how far behind him they were, and then turned back to his vic...

*WHAM!*

He never saw it coming, the low hanging branch that ended his dream.

Longing for the way it once was in Thailand
by jbsmithana

Comment:
Chailai sat and pursed her lips. She hadn't wanted to come to dinner. She was fine at home, on her own, tending her garden. However, Her niece and nephew had made such a fuss, and so she had relented. She had put up with their constant chattering, with the long ride to their home, with that yowling mutt they called a pet. She'd put up with all of that with nary a complaint, but when dinner was ready, and they had appeared with this RIDICULOUS hat, well, that was just the end of her patience. She had a mind to pout right through dessert.

Scary Yet Candid
by heavyj

Comment:
He'd snapped the photo before he even realized his subject had noticed him. When he got it home, and saw that the man had been staring at him, he got an uneasy feeling. Suddenly, small nagging memories hit him. The way the man had suddenly glowered, the way his head nodded almost imperceptibly. It had occurred on a subconscious level for the photographer, something he hadn't been aware of but could recall in stark clarity now that he gazed at the photo on his screen.

He'd liked the look of the old man, sauntering along the street. Now, he seemed to be scowling in perpetuity. A look of knowing in his eyes, almost haunting.

A few weeks later, when the pains began, and the boils erupted on his skin, he would forget about this particular subject in a forgotten photo, and never made the connection, even to his agonizing death a short time later.