Essays from an Adventure, Part 4: Reverie

Submitted by Mary on Wed, 04/04/2018 - 01:15

For as long as I can remember, I have been captivated by clouds. No doubt this love was greatly enhanced by the fact that I grew up in the American Midwest, where some of the most spectacular cloud formations in the world are the daily norm. Hours upon hours of my childhood and teen years were devoted to lying on the ground or sitting on a high vantage point, watching everything from cotton puffs to monstrous storm cells move overhead.

Island of the Kahts~Part Sixteen

Submitted by Kay J Fields on Fri, 12/20/2013 - 22:21

Part 16

Morning dawned cool and fresh, just the opposite of my pent-up and feverish thoughts. I lay in my cot a few moments after waking because I knew I wouldn’t be able to look Bart in the eye without it all coming out.

When I did get up, though, I found I had a respite. Bart and some of the others were making sweeps outside the camp, checking and setting a few traps to give us fresh meat supply.

Craigin was already up and Gern’s bedroll was rumpled and body-less.

Monsters Under My Bed

Submitted by Suzie on Sun, 12/12/2010 - 02:55

 When bedtime comes 'round, I am filled up with dread. 
I’ve monsters, MONSTERS, under my bed!
They're angry, they're hungry, they drool, and they shed!
I’ve monsters down there an' they all want me dead!
My mum says good night; I am tucked snugly in.
I lie in the dark with the sheets to my chin.
I hear them! They're stirring! They mutter and growl!
They smack and they slobber, they moan and they yowl!
"We're hungry!" They bellow, "It's time for a meal!"
I hug my stuffed teddy. "Don't eat me!" I squeal.

I Go Through the Black

Submitted by paperpoet on Mon, 08/16/2010 - 13:46


I go through the black In the dark I must ride It’s a sad place to live But a good place to hide Most fear the blackness And none feel at home But dark lives in my heart Wherever I roam Most fear the monsters That lurk in the grass But I look just like them So they let my pass I go through the darkness But I never come back The light does not love me Near as much as the black