*Welcome to the final chapter of Poor Simon! All characters are 18+ I have decided to do the last chapter in 3rd person to give people a little perspective with Anthony. Thank you for staying with me and please enjoy!* OCTOBER,ONE YEAR LATER... Anthony Rogan Christopher woke up, feeling foggy and pleasant. Glancing at the blue digital readout told him t...
"So here we are now: a sip of wine, a sip of water. Someday maybe, maybe someday we'll be smarter." - Jimmy Eat World I. I laid on a thick layer of straw in the barn. He let me stay that night after my farm work was done. His few acres of land were hidden away from the city. The little barn was silent besides the occasional chirping frog and a train horn i...
"Ah, another late riser. A man after my own heart." The voice was deep and melodious. I was sitting across a table on the terrace from the pasha, who was finishing up his coffee when one of those mincing little manservants had guided me out onto the terrace. He looked as magnificent in the morning sunlight as he had the previous night, fucking Jared in his b...
Note: All characters in this novella are older than 18. [This is a completed ten-chapter novella, to be posted in six entries by mid June 2019] ***** Shepheard's Hotel Gentlemen's Dining Room, Cairo, Egypt, November 1924 The times were such that it was folly for anyone of European visage to walk the avenues and alleys of Cairo alone. It had been four yea...
I thought it was a pretty nifty idea, really. I had been selling my body for a couple of years already just to get to where I'd gotten. And then when I managed to get into a prestigious university in a rich, relatively small town known for its part-time eccentric millionaire residents, I could see that I would need a lot more money to maintain my new lifesty...
This chapter's a little different. It's also a bit short, but I felt like the timing was right. -- Leon xx ***** Matty On December 16th, 1994, one year, eight months, and nine days after the birth of Julian Sami Osman, Laurent Zaki Osman was born. He was two weeks premature, weighing exactly six pounds, and, like most younger siblings, despised by th...
Day One: Water. A rush of water, the effervescent surge in my ears, the aquatic blur in my eyes. The world dissolving into liquidity. Kick out lazily, squirm and shimmer through its perfect targets of expanding ripples. My head explodes the pool surface. Slow-motion shaking liquid-sting from my eyes. He sits in his poolside chair, pecking at his laptop. Engr...
Harry Bolton had been in Beirut about a year. He was one of the more noticeable gems in the motley collection of expatriates from this or that Western country who centered our lives on the American University of Beirut for a taste of the cultures we otherwise, and for different reasons, were escaping. He was an academic from a rather vague, but obviously wea...
April 1st, 2019 I extracted Hakan's hand, with a regretfully voiced, "I've got to dress and run to catch my ride," and struggled to zip my shorts up in the forced sitting position I was in in the low tent by the Salamis dig. "I'll take a camp car and drive you to Ercan Airport later myself. We have time, Evan—" "No, we don't have time, Hakan," I said. "We...
Billy had not been pirated again. Instead a somewhat confused American naval man from the USS Philadelphia rowed him directly back to his own ship, where he was handed a pair of trousers, rowed back to the Elizabeth, and kept under guard and separated from anyone else while the naval officers of the Philadelphia, under the command of William Bainbridge, work...