The modern suburban tribe and their way of life: Khoisan Vagrants
Franz the vagrant came past my house as usual and greeted in good spirits. Every morning he collected a cup of hot coffee and few empty bottles for deposit. One day I asked him how he could endure to stay a vagrant and to live such a desperate life.
Category: Short story / Cumulative Earnings: $0.00 Rank: 125 / Month's Earnings: $0.00 Rank: 125
John clenched his left hand with his right as he stared at one of Gummoe Elementary’s few blackboards. He steadily looked at all of the proper names which had been scrawled onto the blackboard by an unsteady hand and a stick of lime green chalk. He then slowly whispered them all to himself: “Lawrence Ferlinghetti”; “Coit Tower”; “Bob Kaufman”; “Harrison Bergeron”; “Alan Kaufman”; “Howl.” None of these names rang a bell in John’s mind as he dreaded the ringing of the first school bell. It wasn’t that he detested the education he was receiving at Gummoe Elementary; he just wished he could have stayed in Mrs. Lernstein’s class for sixth grade. While Mrs. Lernstein, John’s fifth grade teacher, knew exactly how to discipline students and wasn’t afraid to do so, she had introduced John to books beyond Drake the Dachshund, a slightly humorous third grade novel which was essentially a picture book in chapter book format. John now read everything that interested him, be it science fiction or poetry. John worried that his sixth grade teacher, a neophyte to teaching named Mr. Edwards, would make him suffer through constant math problems, or at least the daily poor short story.
The classroom was populating and John was off to his personal Mars, an area of his mind which had been condemned by John’s father as the product of attention deficit disorder, although John was part of a family who all loathed and avoided therapists, so John was never officially diagnosed. His sixth grade teacher casually walked into the room, and the Major Tom of John’s mind flew back to Earth so that John could think while he got a good look at his last elementary school teacher.
Category: Short story / Cumulative Earnings: $0.00 Rank: 55 / Month's Earnings: $0.00 Rank: 54
“Get in there, professor. The Council awaits. They shall be passing judgment immediately as well’ the monstrous guard said as he shoved the professor ahead towards the large, golden doors that were taller than ten men standing on top of each other’s’ shoulders. Indeed, the doors were relics of the Golden Age in which the planet lived in peace. But those days were long gone, and where laughter and smiles once filled this hall, only grave silence remained to greet visitors.
Category: Short story / Cumulative Earnings: $0.00 Rank: 246 / Month's Earnings: $0.00 Rank: 246
After a long observation trip the eagle has returned and landed to its nest. The fellow hawks also that followed the eagle, nested on their places on the branches of the same huge tree placed for them to take the rest.
Category: Short story / Cumulative Earnings: $0.00 Rank: 184 / Month's Earnings: $0.00 Rank: 184
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