Dec 05

Ten Days of Winter, 1892

Editor's note: In the 11+ years of this site, I have shared only a couple of things on the belief that this is your site, not mine. But I am sharking this because, well, becaue I thought you might like to read/listen to it and, also, to see that some stories take a long time to develop. I'd love some feedback -- this is your chance! :) 

I wrote this piece of fiction for Winter Tales 2017 and it was presented by Vermont Stage in its shows Dec. 6-10, 2017 at FlynnSpace. (It also was going to be presented at a similar winter story show in East Montpelier on Dec. 16.)

Audio download:
Feb 13

The House

NOTE: This is part of the Sprout1 Challenge. This piece was written by an anonymous writer during Vermont Writes Day, and we loved how it started us thinking. How about you? If you would like to extend this story, please click the SPROUT button below and continue it. If you find lots of sprouts, and we hope you will over time, and you like where someone else has taken this, sprout that post. Have fun. And we thank whoever posted this on on Friday, Feb. 10, 2017. (We have made a few edits, by the way.)
Feb 13

The Pendant

NOTE: This is part of the Sprout1 Challenge. This piece was written by an anonymous writer during Vermont Writes Day, and we loved how it started us thinking. How about you? If you would like to extend this story, please click the SPROUT button below and continue it. If you find lots of sprouts, and we hope you will over time, and you like where someone else has taken this, sprout that post. Have fun. And we thank whoever posted this on on Friday, Feb. 10, 2017. (We have made a few edits, by the way.)

The old iron bell jangles as I step into the familiar shop. I wave to the owner, a kindly old gentleman, who smiles at me as he always does and says hello. He seems to appreciate my visits, even though I don't often buy anything. 

I make my way through a maze of old bookshelves and chairs, paintings, vases and other miscellaneous objects. I know almost all of it by memory and can tell whenever the store has sold something. 
Aug 12

Voël (tentative title) - Settings

(Photo Credit: Pixabay, various contributors)

Setting 1: Washington D.C. USA, Earth -Summer of 2016

Tamasha lives with her mother, father and brother (though he is away for most of the story on a gap year trip around South East Asia) in Washington D.C. the capitol of the United States of America, in the Shaw neighborhood of D.C. ,  known for it’s ethnic diversity and emphasis on intellectual and cultural progress. Their family lives in one of the small Victorian style homes typical of that area.

Both she and her brother occasionally visit the Adams Morgan area, known for it’s entertainment and arts scene. Her brother is interested mainly in the restaurants and galleries, which she occasionly visits with him, but Tamasha is later drawn to the area for the musical venues and stores.
Aug 10
fiction 0 comments challenge: Wings

The Gift

 "I have..wings?" I almost dropped the note, my hands shaking. I did when the door banged open, my little sister standing in the doorway.

"Mila! Come on! I wanna go watch the ravens!" She called out, her stuffed replica of the bird in her arms. 

I sighed. "I know, Genny, I know. Hold on, I'll be ready in a moment." I stood up, leaving the note on my quilts as I did. I stretched my arms above my head as Genny stomped her feet on the ground.

"They're going to go away! Come on!" She tromped down the stairs to where I knew she'd wait for me. 

I slipped on my sweater, ruffling my hair before brushing it. My long brown tresses were then put into a braid, my thin fingers neatly twisting them into the hair tie. The dark jeans I slid on contrasted with the lighter, yellow-striped sweater. The one Grandmama had knit for me before she passed away.

Aug 10

From Finner

"And the waves that hit his face marked the past
And the furrows on his skin—oh, how time goes fast.."
- Of Monsters and Men, "From Finner"

I met Mariah at a gala some odd years ago.

I remember still having Alexander in the pocket of the suit I was wearing as I talked to other kids there, kids of the wealthy owners of some company or other. It wasn't that I hated to talk, just that I was otherwise isolated from people. I would talk for hours with people I just met.

Mariah was..different.

She wasn't the daughter of a rich noble, no. She'd been invited to the gala because of her talents. 

She tried hard to do well in school. That's what this gala was for - the sponsors of the school she'd be going to, now that she'd be entering high school.

The Ikka Academy, a school that my father had helped to fund. I'd be going there too, come September. 
Aug 05

I Am Tired of Not Feeling Safe

I am tired of not feeling safe.

Is it because I am a girl?
Is it because I go to high school?
Is it because I've been pressured to drink by my own family?

I do not know.

I am just tired of it.

I am tired of thirty-year-old men staring at me after a bike race once I changed into the well-fitting shirt I received.
I am tired of hearing my classmates speculate on who was most likely to bring a gun to school.
I am tired of getting messages on Facebook from my twenty-three-year-old cousin, asking me if I want to 'get shitfaced'.

I just want to feel safe in my own skin.

I don't want to stand with my arms over my chest.
I don't want to think about what would happen if someone brought a gun to school.
I don't want to block my own family online, when I know I won't see them for months.

Is it bad to want out? Out of this..torment?
Aug 05

We Sink

"We are the sleepers, we bite our tongues
We set the fire and we let it burn.."
- Of Monsters and Men, "We Sink"

I groaned as I sat up from my bed, holding my head. It still hurt from when I'd headbutted Alexander yesterday. My ice pack wasn't so cold anymore and lay next to me on the bed. The sunlight streamed through the large windows, nearly blinding me as I opened my bedroom door. 

"What on earth happened?!"

Outside my door, Alexander had fallen asleep. That wasn't the issue.

The issue was Malphas being covered in piles of fur as he slept on the couch. One of the said fur piles was awake and barked at me.

Alexander was fast asleep despite the barking. The puppy ran over to me, scratching at my legs and yipping. I knelt down and picked it up. "Which one of you brought them home?"
Aug 02
GabriellaF's picture

Shooting Star

It as an average day at the satellite until Agent Collins heard a wish. Someone thinking that the satellite was a shooting star, it happens more often then you would think. Collins listened to a little boys voice.
"I wish that Mommy would get better," The child said
Aug 02
fiction 0 comments challenge: Run
Icarus Blackmore's picture

Tap. Tap.

Jillian sat, lightly tapping her pencil against the wooden desk. The desk had begun to rot she noted, tilting her head slightly so she could get a better look at the dark mold that now crept along its underside. She paused for a moment, sucking in a breath before she swept her finger against the mold. It was fuzzy to the touch she noted, different than the mold she had spied on the leaves that morning. She wondered if there was some advantage to the textures, she couldn’t imagine what advantage there would be, but evolution crafted nature with such fine detail, that she imagined there had to be some advantage to a different texture of mold.
Aug 02
fiction 0 comments challenge: Run


With her headphones in, she couldn't hear anything but her music. She ran in time to the beat, the steady pace taking her places she'd never thought she'd go.

Running past pedestrians on the sidewalk, Evaline was unbothered by the dogs trying to sniff her ankles. Her shirt moved as she jogged in place at the crosswalk, her shoes hitting the cement below slightly faster as the song changed. She hummed the melody as she made her way across the painted white ladder on the road below.

Evaline ran past men with their arms crossed, cigarettes danging from their fingers. She ran past children waiting in line to get into movie theaters with their parents. She regulated her breathing as cyclists moved past, raising her hand in a greeting as her friend pedaled past. She smiled as her friend stopped, taking off her helmet. Evaline paused her music and used it as an excuse to take a break, pulling out her headphones.
Aug 01
bayleer05's picture

The Woods

Evan and his group of friends were walking over to the baseball field when he hears something coming from in the woods. He stops and walks towards the edge of the woods. He can hear whispering and feet crunching on the leaves.

    “Evan, you comin’?” Asked one of his friends Charlie.
Aug 01
fiction 1 comment challenge: River


"You sure this is a good idea?" I called to Jackson from where I was standing. The boards of the dock beneath me were old, wooden, but not rotting. 

"Of course it's a good idea!" He still had the canoe tied to the dock and was unwrapping it from a peg. He was already sitting down. "Come on, Alexis!"

I couldn't deny him. I took my place at the front of the canoe, a paddle in my hands. I sat down, digging the paddle into the shallow water beneath to catch on some rocks. It did. He finished unwrapping the line and we pushed off.

It was so quiet as we drifted down the river, our paddles only dipping into the water when the current wasn't pushing us. Birds twittered from branches high above us, leaves falling into the water. We were alone.

"Weren't we just trying to get to the other side?" I asked him, disturbing the silence as we kept drifting. We were in the middle of the river now, a good ways away from where we'd first pushed off.
Jul 31


There was nothing here for me.
No, not anymore.
I picked the last ripe apple
off of the last branch years ago.

I ate it selfishly.
I didn't share it.
I tossed the core 
in the dirt.

The nothing here for me became a wonderland.
I returned to see dozens of trees,
red against green as fall drew near.
Baskets waited underneath the trees,
their owners lying underneath dirt and stone.

I picked one of those apples.
As I bit into it,
juice dripped down my chin
and my bare skin.

Chilly air blew through my hair,
freezing my fingers.
I let the apple drop
and the illusion disappeared.

Everything was dark again,
smog clouding the sky.
Skyscrapers cut the clouds
and touched what I couldn't see.

The trees that were left now
held nothing but initials
carved with knives
banned years ago.
Jul 31

I Of The Storm

"Are you really gonna need me when I'm gone?
I fear you won't
I fear you don't"
- Of Monsters and Men, "I Of The Storm"

"Cheir. I brought you a gift."

It was my father, visiting a few days after I'd almost been killed by uniformed men. My things were in boxes. Alexander was in my pocket, hidden in his stone form. In his hands, my father held a small box, one you'd carry jewelry in.

"Thanks." I took it from him, setting it on one of the pristine counters. "I'll look at it once I'm done. I just have to load these into the truck downstairs."

He raised one of his hands. Some of the men that had come here with him walked forward, taking boxes and leaving. I let out a breath. "Alright then.

"Thank you, Father," I said again, leaning back on the same counter. "I thought you had work to do, though."
Jul 31


     The boy walked up to the building, his toy elephant cradled in his arms. He didn't intend to go inside no, not at all. He didn't even know what -or who- was inside the building, after all. He just wanted to get a closer look at the strange sign that was posted on the door:
The boy scratched his head thoughtfully. Why would someone bother putting up a sign banning elephants from the building, when there was little to no chance that an elephant would even be in the vicinity of the building?
     The boy's curiosity suddenly started to grow, and what started as a little itch in the back of his mind became a big, fat curiosity rash. He needed to know what was inside the building, and more importantly, to know why the sign was on the door.
     He knocked once.
     No answer.
     He knocked twice.
     Still no answer.
Jul 31

A Prisoner of my Mind.

     Once upon a time, I lost my grip on reality. I spent years with my head in the clouds, dreaming of a life I could not have. I fell in love with people I'd never met, became attached to places I'd never been. I waited for the impossible to happen- for those dreams to become a reality.
     One day I realized I would be waiting forever. What had started off as daydreams became so real to me, and I wondered every day when my "real" life would start. I accepted that if this continued I would live a dismal, unfulfilled, life, unable to become attached to anyone or really live. I couldn't go on like this. 
Jul 31

On The Subject of Ill Luck

I was always superstitious.
Some would say I’m just suspicious,
I knew better than to cry,
“Superstitions are a lie!”
Then one day my neighbor said,
“All this stuff’s just in your head.
People fear silly signs,
Fantasies of their minds.”
I thought about this idea.
Now, what was I to fear?
If a black cat crossed the road,
Would I turn into a toad?
So I squared my shoulders boldly,
Looking in the mirror coldly
I ventured out for a view
Of the whole world anew.
The sun was warm, the birds were singing,
And in the distance I heard ringing.
I pranced onto the road, gleeful,
When something made me stop all fearful.
A shaggy horse walked up the street,
Chewing on a sheaf of wheat.
I ogled at the tired beast,
Who utterly enjoyed a feast.
What gave me such a dreadful fright?
The startling fact- the horse was white.
I crossed my fingers, clicked my toes,
Jul 30


this contains abuse/drug references. 

My welcome-homes were punches in the face.

My thank-yous were chokeholds, air starved from my body.

My you're-welcomes barely glanced off of my father's chest as he held me against the wall, blood splattering in the same places it had for days, months, years.

As I lay there, palms open to the ceiling, listening to my father's angry voice and my mother's panicked one. Then the slaps, the hitting, the screams. I couldn't even cover my ears, I could only close my eyes and try to forget.

I pulled myself out of bed to get to school the next day. Bruises dotted my face and I covered them up with bandages, white cloth covering it all. I left through the creaky door, bag slung over my shoulder as my mother roused herself out of sleep.

Jul 29

Scene Dump - Ravilo

"Hey, Ravi, are you sure your mom's here?" Julio called to him as the raven clambered off of the wagon they'd taken here from the port city miles away. "It seems so crowded.."
"It's what Colso told us. It's our best shot," his companion responded. The wagon wheeled away and the pair was left in the throng of people milling outside a walled town. 
"These people look like traders. We're better off asking around inside," the half-cat suggested - Ravi nodded. They pushed their way through the crowds, though not unkindly. The gates were open and they were able to slip inside easily.
There were fewer people in the walled town than outside. No one seemed to be milling around, so the pair kept walking on the main path. It led them to a building in what was the center of town, doors open. Some people were inside.