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Have a read of last contributions to the open stories listed below. If you are interested in making a contribution for one of the stories simply click the "contribute" link under the last contribution below.

blood and oil

Irony is a bitter pill to swallow. I remember last time I was here; I swore the next time I'd be here would be to collect his corpse. Well, his corpse has already been taken but he's dead nonetheless and here I am again; still being bullied by him even from beyond. I can only imagine what people are saying about all this when they think we won't hear it. They probably think her a murderer and me a traiter. Maybe I am. Surely she is.

Ready. Set. DIE.

Wincing with pain, and as quickly as possible, she reached for the piece of scrap. Moving too slowly would out her position to this half-blind thing. She had the advantage of a few of the ship's panels to crouch behind, and they deflected the echos the beast was generating with the chattering of it's teeth. She guessed it to be some sort of hideous sonar. This had to be quick, because her arm would reflect no sound... and it would be on her. She took the gamble, grabbed the scrap and flung it as hard as she could.

Journey to Raithorn

And were a welcome relief for those undertaking this journey to Raithorn. His majesty, and the royal blood that begat him, were stewards of a kingdom whos waters brought forth an amphibious creature like none other in all the lands. It bore it's young but once every 5 seasons. His majesty and his kingdom maintained this creature's safty and abundance with their lives. The people of the kingdom understood their duty and no man, woman or child went without food, water or clothing. They lived well, but were not a greedy lot and this earned them the respect of all kings and kingdoms across the lands.
The 5th season had just begun and selected hatchlings were gathered and packaged for the journey to Raithorn under the protection of his majesty's guard. Not once, in all the generations of kings, was there a threat to the precious cargo while in transit by the royal guard. A description of the cargo, and it's importance in this tale is due the reader, but in due time.
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Dark Horse Falls

She was sure of it. She'd have recognized his profile anywhere, even though she hadn't seen him in years. His shoulder length hair hid most of his face, and he was 30lbs heavier since they last crossed paths, but it was him. The last time they crossed paths they found themselves in a horror that nearly cost both of them their lives. Deja vu. Here she was, just like last time. She knew she was drinking too much again and needed to stop the smokes. Her life was taking a nose dive and she had nowhere to go...just like last time. She stood for a while at the window, watching. What are the odds, she thought, of him getting a bus and painting California on the side of it, with letters big enough to be seen from a window across the street; not just any window, HER window. She stood staring thru the window for what seemed like an hour. It dawned on her that he was probably waiting for curiosity to get the best of her. He was right, of course.
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