Micro Fiction, 100 Word Challenge, Internal Struggle Trinity Ferray stood in her panties and bra, her muscular frame inspiring. She...

Part 1 should be read first click here if yo have not read it yet. Mr. Mason and the Carions Part 1. Briesta and I made our way back to...

Edvice and Jed got out of the truck and walked across the Walmart parking lot. “So much for early bird gets the worm looks like the...

“Sit, sit now children, and I will tell you the tale of how the Young Refugee Prince, Three Days a Slave, Lord Prince of the Relm, became...

Photo by K. Mitch Hodge on Unsplash Today, 30 November 2020 as I write this ends the NaNoWriMo 2020 writing challenge. The last nine days...

Monday, 23 November 2020 marks the beginning of the final 9 Days of the November 2020, National Novel Writing Month. I am making...

One for the money, two for the show, three to get ready, and four, let’s go! Jenica, screamed as she jumped from the open door,

Well, my friends, one week of writing has passed and I am proud to report that I am on track to complete 50,000 words by month’s end.

Hovering just above the tops of the odd-looking trees, the insect looking beast had its long snout stuck into one of the large flowers,

“Joey, wait please.” “Now what?”

An empty bookshelf sat in the garage with my brother’s thing.

Timothy Mason, or Saul of Flean, as he is known on Cket-a3, seldom runs from a fight. Running away isn’t very good for the reputation if the

By far Mr. Mason’s favorite Adventure Destination is the planet Zada-3. Zada-3 is a classic life-supporting planet that has all the

In this article, I will provide you, with ideas and methods that will help to exercise and challenge your imagination.

“Happy, there is a fluctuation in the power runners on the port side, what is going on,” I asked my Engineer.

Unexpectedly large would describe the Black Dog, a three-storied, inn and tavern. Unheard of outside the great cities. In the tavern

To Say that Sally Well and Growler Ink were made for one another, would be a slight understatement.

Sally was a half-hour late, which I guess was a half-hour early by her standards. She operated on her own clock, lived in her own world.

“The rich get richer, the rest of us die.” I was driving from Phoenix to Butte, a thousand miles shouldn’t take long. The radio played a tal

“Sanity is beyond me now.” The room was silent, dark, and cold, and the line from Ozzy’s song would repeat in my mind every so often.