Young Writers Society

Nick looked around the deserted alley. His helper should be here... He winced as his shoulder throbbed.Ordinarily, he wouldn't be out this late, and injured. But he'd gotten a good ...

I like some of the imagery here, i.e. the description of the distant fences in repose. Very nice. I think the line-breaks mid-sentence are a bit awkward, however. Consider breaking ...

[Note: I wrote this some time ago and I'm not too sure about it, so please tell me what you think!] Loving you in vain I feel bad for shutting ...

NOTE: This may not seem like sci-fi, but it is. It's coming up the next few chapters. Minor Editing thanks to Adam_Atlantian and Chaotic Romance. A lone raft drifted in ...

Man

The quietness of the library I wonder if she knows she makes the library for me? Time in the library without her Would be time and time and time again ...

Hey y'all. This is the last of the Retrospect discs. Isn't that amazing? I think so. These are a fanmix for Sam's Hourglass. You can either downloading the entire disc ...

San Francisco mist in morning over the trees in Golden Gate park carries over in mourning to light the Pacific’s dark. The pyramid sways in sunshine gray afternoons in Chinatown ...

Chapter Eleven Three days flew by like a jet. Christian anticipated his soon-to-be girlfriend. He stared at her in the halls, and lunch and all of sixth period. Christian wished ...

This is quite possibly my favorite chapter. C: Aedaan is a very interesting character to me, one that I regret to say doesn't play an overly large role in the ...

"Leaves" Beautiful soldiers Marching uniformly from The large chestnut tree

Was a rounded pendulum swung, dangling from the air, springing downward from an angry clock-face? Was it like Cronos’ stretched and aching member, invisible to my puny, penis-avoiding eyes, on ...

The soft red leaky tendrils of the sun’s emitted fumes upon the farmhouse windowpane: a morning whisper jagged in design and prophylactic tedium to wake the sleeping farmer from his ...

Look at that factory: a sore upon the city-street; a boorish decoration that has sewn itself upon the sidewalk like a vile, self-sufficient plant. We were minding our own business, ...

Somehow, he knows the precise moment at which to tug the fishing line. Past the unknowable edge of every corner building, he is a wiry boy with hair asunder. His ...