Beginning a story is a hard thing to do. It needs something to catch people's eye. It needs to be something different. I don't like beginning stories. The beginning of this story

This is the story of Tom. Tom was a simple man. Tom was a good man. He lived his life as an ideal example for others. Everyone loved Tom. Everyone except for that vile

Once there was a girl named Savannah. Savannah was at the dentist when he all of a sudden he yelled....

This was not your average rocking horse. This particular horse had been furiously forged in the fiery fires of deepest depths within hidden Hades. Fourteen thousand fingers

and I'm Batman. Kapow! But I don't like carrots unless they are with that Toy Story cheese and mac because I like the shapes except for Mr. Potato. Did you I will be 5 next week?

She picked up a box of carnival glass at the estate sale. A small folio of faded photographs was in the bottom. It held tintypes of a men wearing assorted paper hats, glowering.

it was taking longer than expected. After the change , Dave thought himself immune to impatience, but it was taking too long. his telescopic range had grown but

I was the only survivor of that tragedy. Since then, I've gained amazing superpowers and each day I discover more of them. For example, yesterday, I was lifting cars, when

In the catalogue of dreams of infertile action and impotent deed, my subject shall be: just grievances never addressed, with and without revenge (with an appendix on petty force).

There is a lack of stories about Gargoyles and pigeons. Perhaps because the two are far too busy fighting to detail their chronicles. This is the story of a little stone boy name

I had just been Facebook raped and a combination of rage and helplessness ripped through my being. How could a "friend" do this to me? Glass of Merlot in hand, I pondered the

"You can do anything but stay.You can!Do anything!But stay!You can do!Anything but stay!You can do anything,but...stay.You!Can do anything but stay."For 15min. all she had said was

One more time he referenced the "hero with a thousand faces" and one more time

Smoke poured out from between the cream-colored ceiling tiles. The smoke was tinted a sinister green color, and Bob had no idea what was going on. He'd been typing mindlessly away

The answer? Mustard seed. The Question?

The worms go in, the worms go out.

Eating an entire pound of pistachios all at once was a poor decision. Poorer yet was Bob's decision to eat the shells too, as evidenced by the scratch marks they left on his

Its dark and I can't see it seems like im outside in a ally but I dont no. Where am I?

Hillenbrand stuck it out and was proud of himself. Nobody who had scaled these heights before had

Smith looked at Gary and winked the kind of wink that wonks give monks and hacks give hackers. "you ever seen a crime kid?" he growled. "Not since interpol raided my moms place and