adventure-fiction

And then I knew that despite all the pain and hard work all of us had gone through, despite the sadness and anger we felt, in the end, everything was going to be fine. But I did not know when the end was, or if it was even near. But that did not matter. I preferred to look towards it in anticipation rather than worry about it. One new day equalled to one new adventure. And right now, I still had plenty of days left in my life. So I did not decide to sit down and plan out my life. Instead, I decided to sit back, relax, and see where life would take me.

Time is a funny thing. You can go through it and meddle with it, but nothing can stay permanent. So even if everything so far had not happened, time would still have managed to find a way to make all this happen.

Look at their arts, their power of turning stone into lifelike figures, and above all, the way in which they can transfer their thoughts to white leaves, so that others, many many years hence, can read them and know all that was passing, and what men thought and did in the long bygone. Truly it is marvelous.

There are many of us who live alongside others, less fortunate, watching them go through everyday suffering for one reason or another, and weâ__re not moving even our little finger to help them. Itâ__s in human nature, unfortunately: for the most part, the only people we genuinely care about are ourselves. However, once in a while we encounter different species, different kind of human beings among us: full of compassion, willing and wanting to help, and doing so with joy and happiness. Those are a rarity. But you know what, my dear? Being one of them is not a special calling- itâ__s a choice. So what will you choose, huh?

Now it was Arla__ turn for astonishment. The Boy gave Perry a wide smile as he shook his hand. __ou know the land you say? Up along the promontory? Good. Well, perhaps we should take you along. Do you have a horse?___o_ Perry replied. __ut I can ride.___rla is quite slight,_ the Boy said. __erhaps she can ride the packhorse with our gear.__rla gave a strangled gasp, and the Boy grinned at her. She realised he was joking, and breathed a sigh of relief. But she did not trust herself to speak. What did Branguin think he was doing?

If one could speak two languages well and was raised on tea and baguettes for breakfast,in places where the most mundane daily business on the street is conducted in four languages, where horse carts park at cyber cafes, where would one go? Where could one go? Why,with a smile and a handshake, very far, indeed!

To witness the awe of human beings delighting in their own hands forming the written word was humbling and he understood it profoundly at that moment watching those two, with the ancient land around them, in their traditional robes and the resting camels by their campfire, intently regarding writing with such immense respect _ that illiteracy meant subsistence, while literacy meant human advancement, the base on which higher achievements and accomplishments of great civilizations could be built.

The truth for a man, it's what makes him a man.

Writing is an act of faith. One must believe and see people who are invisible to others and be faithful to tell half formed stories. It__ like being on the trail of an apparition who__ repeatedly just out of reach.K. Youngblood

Simm watched the hanging with disgust. Why would the young man pretend to be a spy when he had no skills and no natural ability? As far as he could tell there had been no secret inks, no codes, and little effort to keep his movements secret. Maybe the world was better off without such fools; fledglings who fell out of the sky only to die on the ground.

Life is always on the way back home, after its wilful adventures.

I let my gaze travel out the picture window. Unlike at my old doublewide trailer perched on the fringe of a played out quarry, here I owned a real yard with real grass that screamed for mowing each Monday a.m. I sat at the kitchen table, cooling off from just having finished this week's job. Yes, here in 2005, I was a full-fledged suburbanite, but I'd been called worse.

I was able to bring the souls from the past back to life.-Amaranth

Time is spent never bought. Minutes count when seconds blur. Memories are past that__ caught. Imaginings are future__ lure.__ass and Silver Rainbow-

I think best on two wheels

Dear Time,You're so beautiful when You stand still.