I admire John's eager love for the beach, the ever churning ocean waves, and the recklessness of swimming to far out islands and buoys barely visible from the sandy shore. A wildness comes out in him at the beach, when the sun is high and hot, the water cold and rushing up past your shins. He's extremely playful like a Labrador set free in a dog packed dog park, but I was so timid and downright terrified when first standing in the damp, cool sand.
The following short story was one I wrote back in high school. It won an honorable mention in a county-wide contest, which was remarkable enough to post my picture in the city paper. I was surprised because I honestly hated this story, loathed this character I created, and still do. But to this day, it's …
My life hasn't gone how I planned. Who can say differently, though? When I was a know-nothing kid, I thought that things would align easily. The teachers made it seem like things would, so long as you behaved and got good grades, though. Everything will just fall into place. So I made an age-marked goal …
The night was still young yet already pitch black by the time the airplane made it to its destined gate. I paced between the two areas for exiting passengers up the large and long hall of the Will Roger's Airport. The airport isn't a huge one, but with only one plane left to arrive for …
Have you ever started plotting out a draft, story, dream journal and found yourself with too complex and heavy of an idea meshed with dozens of other ideas that make you go, "Man, this needs to be an entire series!" But then you start, and the idea of creating no only one book for a story idea but three, four, or even five and you're feeling heart palpitations every time you sit at the keyboard. That anxiety is unnecessary, and what is the rule for unnecessary items in a draft?
A theme I notice about my costumes is I always choose a fantasy/whimsical character. Maidens, witches, vampiresses, heroines who go around eating and drinking everything while crying about wanting to go home...
Due to a request by a brilliant pianist, here is a short but sweet/creepy story involving a piano. Every night at midnight, Nana wakes me up with her nightly piano recitals, music filling the house like a cold draft that remains until dawn. Every day, tired and frightful, I go to her grave and beg …
Happy Friday, everyone! But most importantly, happy first day of autumn or Mabon to those of you who celebrate the traditional equinox! I know we are still a week from October but I've been getting very good feedback on these stories and want to keep the momentum up. I hope to post a new story each week (maybe twice, it depends on that fickle Muse of mine) and towards Halloween to create a video where I dress up and read them all at once.
If you enjoy this short horror story, subscribe to the blog. Spooky season is upon us and more to come!
As a quiet introvert, one who usually hangs at the back of any group and doesn't speak especially if I am not familiar with everyone, I observe a lot more than I am given credit. Since the pandemic and quarantine times, this was cut down significantly, but I still play little "spy games" when able …
The World of Abigail Rose 