Past Demons

Outside the sun was shining. Some small children were playing a game down by the park, rolling a wheel over the grass. A beautiful couple was walking by, holding hands. She could see their eyes, glimmering with love and affection.

Inside everything was dark.

They were always there. Her demons. The memories from times that should have been in the past, but never let go. Treason, terrors, fears… (more)

Deep Roots

They lived under ground. They had been for as long as anyone could remember, for as long as their legends and myths could tell. Outside the moon was shining, creating beautiful silhouettes of the tree tops towards the night sky.

They were waiting. Waiting for the sign.

-The roots will some day speak, the Elder said, as he had done so many full moons. -That’s the day we will move out into the open.

-How do you know? a little child asked… (more)

Resentment

Mitch looked down on the little village on the table. An exact replica of the village where he lived, the village where he was from. He laughed inside.

The little hairs of his so-called friends and family. The objects of people he didn’t even know. The little figures all had names now. Personalities. Hopes and dreams for him to destroy. He hated them. He hated them all.

He picked up one, put it down in the village. Mrs Maple. The old hag down the street. The one who told his parents about the dead little birds. She put her close to James, the limp. He turned the light down to night mode. Tonight they would meet, in the alley behind the church. Where no one ever walked.

He pinched James with a needle…. (more)

Open Window

This is an interactive story, where you (lucky you!) get to be the protagonist. Read the first part, give me your next move, and I’ll tell you how your story ends. Good luck.

You sit before your desk, squeezing your pain and fears out on the paper, disguised as fiction, told in another person’s life. The horrors of the past, the nights of loneliness.

You’re tired. It’s been a long day, first the day job, then writing till late at night. You put your pen down and go to the kitchen.

You cut a slice of bread and get a glass of water. Take you shoes off, put them under your bed. It’s a warm night, and you leave your window open… (more)