Quite The View

JournalWord: Peek. :: A flurry of white skirt sweeps the green grass as she saunters toward the apple tree at the edge of the field. Her horse totters obediently behind her, a peach mare that has trailed after her since foalhood. In her hand is an empty basket, soon to be filled with the red delicious apples. The field is hers, the only treasure left by her mother and father to support hers and her brother's livelihood.  This time of year, the wheat is growing prosperously and the apples are beginning to ripen. Spring...

Read More

Growing Up

JournalWord: Rain boots. :: He takes one look at her and shakes his head. She continues to tug her rain boots on her socked feet, unbeknownst to the expression of disapproval on his face. He sighs and decides to make his opinion known. "You're going to get sick." She turns her head to see him leaning on the banister of the staircase. Still bent over, she tugs her foot completely into the boot and straightens up, pushing her hair behind her ears. "Eventually," she agrees. "It's inevitable." He shakes his head again and points his...

Read More

Fear of Happiness

JournalWord: These flowers have teeth. :: The bouquet of flowers fly through the air in a heap of bright green hydrangeas and crisp white and yellow daisies. The dark blue ribbon wrapped and tied around the stalks flutters, like wings aching to take to the skies, as they soar towards the pitched, excited shrieks. Her heart drops at the site, pooling close to her knees. Not now, she begs, trained to the spot in the center of the reaching arms and summer dresses. Please, she prays, watching, frozen, as the flutter of petals sail...

Read More

Leave Not A Sip Behind

JournalWord: Sharing wine with together. :: Despite the groans and protest, she smiles as she shushes her bridesmaids while ushering them out the door. She waits until the last mumble and grumble cannot be heard before sliding the lock into place and softly sighing between her glossy, pink lips.  It is a shocking moment of realization of how quiet this beach side resort is, with only the tropical breeze rustling the palm trees in place of the constant chatter and excitement as they had prepared for her nuptials. In her wedding dress,...

Read More

YGMM: Crowded

JournalWord: In sickness. :: Jones tips his head back so it drapes over the back of the couch, letting off a throaty groan and pathetic sniff. "We can hear ya," Tristan calls over the running water. He dries the last plate after Chris hands it to him and stacks it onto the dish rack to be dealt with tomorrow. "I've got you, Jonesy," he reassures as he wipes his hands on a clean towel and heads for their room.  Chris dries her hands as well, wiping off the spilled water around the sink before hanging the towel up. She hears a series...

Read More

Flower Crowns

JournalWord: Covered in flowers. *** The children are silent. The boy looks up from his lap to gaze at the girl across from him in the squashed patch they had made in the flower field. She's really pretty. Shoulder length blonde hair and cream skin. Her hazel eyes are sad. She's clutching brown teddy bear. He turns away from the ragged stuffed animal squeezed between her fingers, blowing his dark hair out of his face and remembers what his mother reminded him earlier. They can see the house just around the hill but his mother...

Read More

Wow! I've been featured!!

I've been featured! This is what the homepage has up of me! *hyperventilate* (and yes, I take crappy photos..) My short story, Mistaken For A God, has been featured as Editor's Pick on the collaborative and creative fiction community, Protagonize! Check out the story and my author profile (although I haven't actually spiced up my profile.. should probably get around to doing that)!  What a load...

Read More

A Muted Glow

JournalWord: Living someone else's life. :: "Ms. Curie, these reports look wonderful," Headmaster states, heavy, violet shadowed eyes peeking from over the tops of two of my experiment overviews. She smiles, pleased, as she taps the two reports together and stacks them neatly in front of her on the desk.  Her long fingers curl and lock into each other in front of her thin mouth, her elbows set on either side of the reports as if trapping them for herself. "But that isn't why I called for you." She waits, expectantly, her thin eyebrows...

Read More