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Stories in Spring 2008 Contest Ready to Judge
17 years ago
THE SYSTEM IS READY TO ROCK-N-ROLL! (pretty much)
First, sign up for an account. Now you can enjoy the new stories:
In the Greenwood
He smelled of male-musk and clover.
Faeldra’s nostrils quivered, and the doe stretched her neck out, straining to catch every nuance of the scent. The stag was far away yet, but he would find her. The time was near for both of them.
When The Moon Fell
It was as silent as the jungle ever got. A cool breeze whispered through the leaves and vines, blowing the heavy scent of life, a mix of decay and new growth, into the flared nostrils of the motionless figure crouched in the top branches. Long claws curled around the sturdy branch, clinging to yet not scratching the tender bark. Loose tendrils of hair fluttered in the breeze, the only sign of life.
Exit Sign
Clear in her mind, the feel of the wind brushing back her fur, the rays of the sun tickling the flesh underneath with warmth, the smell of the freshly wet grass, the soil, the dew on the leaves, the sounds of the crickets and birds chirping, the rustle of bushes as a squirrel digs underneath to bury its acorn, the hum of a bee collecting pollen from flowers it only seemed to be visiting randomly. All of this drew her through the white halls of the hospital to the door with the little green sign that read ‘EXIT’.
Saving the Magic
“I can’t believe we’re here!” Jerrin tugged on Sabrina’s arm.
“Calm down. And stop acting like a preschooler on your first field trip.” Sabrina rolled her eyes.
It wasn’t her fault she was excited. She made a face at her best friend. Jerrin didn’t know what to look at first. A smile played on her lips as she tried to take everything in.
One-Winged Phoenix
There once was a phoenix that fell in love with a bird of paradise.
In the Valley of the Fallen Sun, there lived the phoenix. He was the only one of his kind. Proud, strong, and defiant, he patrolled the skies with stalwart vigilance.
The Toast
Everything shined like freshly-cut diamonds in the post-rain wet of Chicago’s south side. 53rd and Woodlawn glistened in a silence punctuated only by the drip of water into storm drains and the occasional backfire of a jalopy rattling down the cobbles. It was a Friday night, and the streets, unlike those on Michigan Avenue (that magnificent mile of social carnality) were all but deserted.
Six entries. Nice!
I'll get the ballot pages fully functioning in a few days.
Scotty
First, sign up for an account. Now you can enjoy the new stories:
In the Greenwood
He smelled of male-musk and clover.
Faeldra’s nostrils quivered, and the doe stretched her neck out, straining to catch every nuance of the scent. The stag was far away yet, but he would find her. The time was near for both of them.
When The Moon Fell
It was as silent as the jungle ever got. A cool breeze whispered through the leaves and vines, blowing the heavy scent of life, a mix of decay and new growth, into the flared nostrils of the motionless figure crouched in the top branches. Long claws curled around the sturdy branch, clinging to yet not scratching the tender bark. Loose tendrils of hair fluttered in the breeze, the only sign of life.
Exit Sign
Clear in her mind, the feel of the wind brushing back her fur, the rays of the sun tickling the flesh underneath with warmth, the smell of the freshly wet grass, the soil, the dew on the leaves, the sounds of the crickets and birds chirping, the rustle of bushes as a squirrel digs underneath to bury its acorn, the hum of a bee collecting pollen from flowers it only seemed to be visiting randomly. All of this drew her through the white halls of the hospital to the door with the little green sign that read ‘EXIT’.
Saving the Magic
“I can’t believe we’re here!” Jerrin tugged on Sabrina’s arm.
“Calm down. And stop acting like a preschooler on your first field trip.” Sabrina rolled her eyes.
It wasn’t her fault she was excited. She made a face at her best friend. Jerrin didn’t know what to look at first. A smile played on her lips as she tried to take everything in.
One-Winged Phoenix
There once was a phoenix that fell in love with a bird of paradise.
In the Valley of the Fallen Sun, there lived the phoenix. He was the only one of his kind. Proud, strong, and defiant, he patrolled the skies with stalwart vigilance.
The Toast
Everything shined like freshly-cut diamonds in the post-rain wet of Chicago’s south side. 53rd and Woodlawn glistened in a silence punctuated only by the drip of water into storm drains and the occasional backfire of a jalopy rattling down the cobbles. It was a Friday night, and the streets, unlike those on Michigan Avenue (that magnificent mile of social carnality) were all but deserted.
Six entries. Nice!
I'll get the ballot pages fully functioning in a few days.
Scotty
