Essays from an Adventure, Part 7: Squidge

Submitted by Mary on Sat, 09/15/2018 - 14:13

I dozed off a little once it was morning, and woke up to stewardesses opening window covers and serving breakfast.
The captain’s voice came on, in a prim, polite British accent.
“Good morning, passengers, we hope you had a restful night. We’ve just passed over the Isle of Mann, and will be beginning our descent into London shortly.”
Isle of Mann…London…Whoa. I peered groggily out the window. The sun was just getting high enough to lose its morning softness, and I squinted against its growing glare, trying to see down through the patchy clouds.

Feasts of Yesterday

Submitted by Anna on Thu, 01/26/2012 - 20:07

The cloth sweeps against the floor,
Long ago embroidered with care, fit
For many people to admire while they ate.
Now white is red by drink and brown from gravy,
Grease-stained from spills and careless children. [5]
The plates are crooked on the edge,
Crumbs tumbling on the chairs, 
Which knock each other, knock the table, 
For those who sat in them, having devoured,
Abandon the mess and repose in other places. [10]
Once this barren table sparkled with wineglasses
Under the lamps overhead, electric and piercing.

The Prince Who Went Searching for True Love- Chapters 1 & 2

Submitted by Emma Katherine on Sun, 09/04/2011 - 03:33

Hello everyone,

here is another story. I have finished the story but do not want to overwhelm you, so here are the first two chapters.

Enjoy! :D


Chapter One

What started It All


Once upon a time there lived a prince named Robert. He had never loved anything in his life. He hated his books (but he read them anyway to pass the time of day), he hated his horse, his slaves, his sword, his kingdom, even his wealth (because it did nothing but buy more hated things). 

Turkish Delight, episode 2

Submitted by Aisling on Thu, 01/12/2006 - 08:00

Ah, yes. The fateful day dawned. The first thing I did upon coming downstairs was to lift the pan off the Turkish Delight and peek at it. It looked just like it had the day before, but I wasn’t to be daunted. It seemed an unbelievably long time until 2:30. I checked the clock(s) continually. And then, finally, twenty-four hours had passed. I raced into the kitchen, and pulled the pan off. Lifting the blue plastic dish, I gently tilted it toward the light. And . . . the Turkish Delight slid.