Shattered Shatter.Shattered
I look at my hands, remembering the happiness they held. I look beyond the hands, to the floor beneath, and the shattered pieces of that same happiness. I sigh, and shake my head, and mumble apologies to those who would listen. My heart, my weak human heart, makes me ache with every beat, and my hands shake with the strength and speed of my pulse.
I bend over and begin picking up the pieces. I hoped, as I always hope, that this one will be different. That this time, I'll be given a second chance. While I’m on the f
JourneyI turn from my companion, the time for explanations long since past. I hold my hand out before me, knowing the path that once more lay at my feet. I have walked it once before, and now am urged to walk it again. I close my eyes, urging the door to appear, and dreading what lay beyond it.Journey
My companion gasps, signifying its appearance. I open my eyes, and the door is there, as it always has been. I run my hand across it, feeling the ancient wood slide against my skin with a rasp. I glance around the edges, noting the lack of hinges on the door. I feel the familiar excitement of the adventuring life begin to pump its way through my
Chapter 1 - The First NightAny pre-existing fictional characters that may or may not appear in this story are the property of their various creators or owning companies, not me. The only character that I rly own is the main male character of this story. He's mine. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Chapter 1 - The First Night
He woke, covered in a cold sweat. The scream that, only moments ago, had been surging up his throat and to his lips, was nowhere to be heard. He could feel the dream that summoned the scream fading, and it would most likely be gone by the time he attempted to retrieve it. He sat up, h
Flight, at 2:45 AMFlight. It is at the same time the greatest desire of mankind, and the farthest from our grasp. I do not mean flying with planes or gliders or other such bulky devices. I mean graceful, self-powered, beautiful flight. Why do humans dream of flying? Is it out of envy for the graceful creatures of the sky? Or is it perhaps a memory, an ancient memory from ages past, when flight was no fantasy? I believe the latter in my heart, but the former in my mind. It is the way of things. Hope and Logic at work yet again.Flight, at 2:45 AM
But that argument has already been put forth, and need not be done so again. This is about Flight. Why do you think mankin
Hoping
Regretful
