Karen hated her life. Most teenagers do, but she thought hers was really crappy.
The neighbors were loud. Her neighborhood smelled terrible and seemed to be dissolving around her. Her parents had buzzed off and left her to wallow in her self-pity.
Such is life for a young fruit fly.
G.W. Lovvorn is an American writer living the good life in the Philippines, where he spends most of his time ghost writing for people who like to appear smarter than they are. (JOKES!)
She stepped onto the abandoned platform. The breeze from a nearby train forced her tartan scarf to wrap around her icy neck. Reaching inside her pocket, she pulled out the tattered and torn ticket and held it loosely above her.
She closed her eyes and let the wind carry her.
Lisa Bird is a 12-year-old pupil at Longhill High School in Brighton, UK.
Fluorescent lights reflected onto the cool, rushed water. I walked to the side of the falls, climbing over the fence that I peered over as a child.
Quickly, I checked to make sure no one was watching, then I threw myself over the edge and spread my wings, taking flight.
Emily is a fourteen-year-old girl living in New Jersey. Her dream is to graduate college with an degree in English and finish her first novel by the end of high school.
Micah the mole had always wanted to fly.
One day, he climbed a tree and jumped. For a full second, he was dropping through the air like a dead bird. It was exhilarating, then very painful.
He told his friends he’d do it again, but they knew he was lying.
With waxy wings buzzing, and multifaceted eyes glowing maliciously, the fruit flies attacked.
In mere seconds, the unsuspecting picnickers were covered with a two-inch-deep blanket of angry, but harmless insects.
“We have them!” buzzed Franklin Fruit Fly. “What do we do now?”
And the swarm realized it had no follow-through.
This story is based on a title suggested by Nancy Cavanaugh via Facebook.
He dreamed of flying.
Every day he stayed home, sequestered himself in his workshop, and pursued his dream.
He considered himself the Noah of the twenty-first century. The global flood was coming, and he would live in the sky.
But he was not this era’s Noah: he was its Daedalus.
The genie gave him three wishes.
He wished he could fly.
The genie granted his wish, so he flew and flew and flew.
He wished he could land.
The genie granted his wish, so he fell and fell and fell.
He wished he could survive the fall.
The genie winked.
“What do you think would happen if a yodeler got turned into a zombie? Would it cry for our brains with yodels?”
“…No.”
“Ok, stupid question, fair enough. Oh man, you know what would be really freaky, though? Zombified birds. Because they could fly.”
Sometimes I really hate my friends.
@DashP responded to a request for two nouns and a verb with the words “zombie”, “yodels”, and “fly”.
He could lift a truck off the ground with nothing but two fingers and a crane.
He could fly short distances by kicking his legs and holding his breath.
He could breathe through his nose and his mouth at the same time.
He was my best friend, and I hated him.