Tag Archives: free fiction

Three Wishes by Isabelle

He slumbered. For millennia, no doubt. But when he woke it was always to the same rumbling, the deafening crackle of magic like thunder, the stretching of his body to infinite proportion as it squeezed him through a space too small for him to fit, before making him whole again. The space around him came to focus slowly, dimly lit shadows dancing in flickering torchlight, fading fast, a single breath from extinction.

And like a passing sandstorm, they faded, clearing his vision, leaving behind only the shape of men and women, deathly still, crushed beneath the rubble. They’d come for his treasure. For gifts and talents unattainable. At a cost none could fathom. And like most, they earned nothing but a spot among his collection of bones.

The vacuum of silence exploded, as his sense fully returned, only to realize that the stillness of the room did not match the wet gurgling sound echoing against the cavern walls. He frowned, crossing his gargantuan arms over his chest, looking for the source of such desperate gnawing and froze when he saw it.

At the foot of his looming shadow, a small, suckling child sat, it’s tiny mouth pressed against the handle of his golden lamp. Continue reading

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An Ideal Friday Night by Isabelle

“Well,” he said, making sure his sigh was a loud, exaggerated masterpiece, in case she happened to miss the point. “Here we are again.”

There was a long pause before she snickered. “We’re nothing if not consistent.”

He could hear the smile in her voice. Yup. He rolled his eyes. As usual, she missed the point entirely. Continue reading


Other Dating by Lisa

pexels-photo-967018.jpeg

The chime above the door rang and I shoved the book I was reading into my bookbag.

An inordinately handsome young man had walked in and was now leaning on my counter. He nodded to the backpack as I straightened up. “Whatcha reading?”

“Um… just something a friend leant me.” I didn’t want to admit what it was—one of the million YA paranormal books bracing the shelves these days, one of the very books that was driving up our clientele—it’s hard to find true love when everyone is obsessed with vampires and werewolves.

I cleared my throat. “Welcome to Other Dating. My name is Charity, how can I help you?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Charity? And are you an angel, Charity?”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I’d been hit on by an inordinate amount of Others in my time. It had long lost its ability to make me blush.

Continue reading


Kaleidoscope by Isabelle

Color Splash from Polyvore.com

It’s true what they say: you can’t miss what you don’t have.

That’s why I didn’t understand it at first. All the hype about your soulmate, and what a big deal it was to find them.

Everyone said it changed everything. But what did I know? All I’d known my whole life was a monochromatic landscape. I didn’t know what I was missing… until I met her. Until the day we bumped shoulders at the little coffee shop on Main Street and she blew my world wide open. Continue reading


There Was a Knock on the Door

Image From Dot Myl- Google Plus

Image by Dot Myl – Google Plus

Hello dear friends and imaginative travelers!

We regret to have left you at the Tree alone for such an extended period of time. We thought of you often, and despite our best efforts to return, the Door to the Tree eluded us, busy as we were fighting monsters in our path.

But if you’re here, if you’re listening… we’re knocking.

We’re writing.

Where will 2018 lead us?

Come along. Let’s find out.


Weary Traveler by Lisa

He moves a dusty patch of earth behind him with every step. His steps, once eager, had slowed to determined, mechanical movements.

He didn’t know how long he’d been walking. A month? A year? A lifetime.

Always he was pulled on by a waft of air, reminiscent of her smell, her hair, or a flash of movement in the distance like the swish of a dress. Continue reading


The Frozen Castle by Lisa

I sweep the frost from the path, whisking it away, just as my lady always asked of me when winter came. Some small part of me asks why I bother, when it will only build up again, with no feet to wander it but my own, and that of my broom.

It’s a curse that brought this everlasting winter on the castle of my birth. A curse, and love. Though what the difference is these days, I’m only half sure I remember.

With the grounds cleared, I gather my courage, to walk among statues.

Continue reading


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