I REMEMBER SIMBA..._The shape-shifter._Heat Seeker_The White Dragon
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I REMEMBER SIMBA...
I remember when our neighbor, Mr. Makhuyu proudly brought Simba’s lifeless body in a sack ready to collect his bounty from my father. A bounty that had been issued almost a year before this sad, sad day. There was an air of loss coupled with a sense of relief that hung uncomfortably in our compound that day. I come from a traditional African home. We do not mourn the death of animals and especially not those ones that had practically terrorized the whole village and made my father pay two hospital bills on their account. Simba was not always the terrorist dog and in my opinion, it only harass...
The shape-shifter.
Swww.onedoor.cche radiated light just like her name. Her beautiful skin glistened in the neon light coming from the paved court through the slits in the blind, her soot-black lashes matted, and her gray beady eyes mischievous more than ever. Her long jet black hair fell in loose waves past her shoulders, with a few black peekaboo strands. “Haya. . . .?” called her mother. She quickly hid her diary under her pillow and marched off to her mother, anxious to see what came next.Dear diary,Ma still doesn’t know of my shape-shifting. It has been three days since I last changed shape. I changed into Yusuf, my brot...
Heat Seeker
"Heatseeker" By William A. La FleurSuddenly I found myself two steps into a busy street staring at a semi-truck coming straight for me at full speed.A man texting bumped into me. As soon as he did I shoved him back onto the curb, he fell on his ass and just as the truck was about to hit me I found myself on the top of one of the towers of the Golden Gate Bridge.In front of me was a worker tottering on the edge. We both looked down and saw that he had not clipped his tether properly to his harness. He fell back completely off balance, only the edge of one shoe on the tower and heading straight ...
The White Dragon
Harry Windham leaves his quaint home at exactly 4:30 am on a cold Monday(he is a very precise person, he likes routines and symmetry), takes only his yellow Jansport backpack and a bulky coat. The sun hasn’t risen, still hesitant to behind the mountains and trees. He jumps into his red car, starting the engine and drives down and out of the neighborhood. The traffic is enough to get on his nerves, enough to make him want to turn back and drive back home, but what he is doing is necessary. He pulls into the parking lot, checking for the third time his keys were safely in his pocket and steps ...