Telling my tales, one dream after the other.
Drawing from my old fanfictions because I had an insane week and couldn't write anything new. This still holds a special place in my heart (along with the person this was written for.) *** When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many… Continue reading In the midnight hour
From the tenth floor the streets were a world of living Barbies and Kens. Staring down from the mansard, Marie wondered why would her dad prefer to travel around the seas when he could sit there with her and her raven, naming every passer-by, giving them identities, assigning lives. “That one is Rose,” she pointed… Continue reading I win
I wrote quite a decent number of fanfictions in my life, for different TV shows. Most of them are, to my own admission, depressing tear-jerking sh*t. This is one of the few not falling into that category. Because at times even my miserable muse needs lightness and fun. *** New York City, 2010 Will has… Continue reading Perfect Strangers
There was nothing more upsetting than seeing the list of my options slim down by the second, torn to shreds by the frenemy of web searches, aka Google. A lethal combo of meds and alcohol was ruled out for lack of raw material. No access to med cabinets and no doctor friend to supply them… Continue reading Suicide Blonde
My heels click on the polished parquet, resounding in the silence of the wide, empty hall. It's past ten at night and the last visitors of my exhibit have just left. In my hands there is the chèque I'll cash tomorrow from the sale of one of my paintings. The exhibit has been more successful… Continue reading The willow farm
Oh. There is something I forgot to say about me; fluff is not my forte, so enjoy the pain! *** When she hears the distant knock on the door, she doesn't even consider getting up to answer as an option. She lifts the crumpled sheets over her head and cocoons herself deep underneath the warm… Continue reading May 1984
Written for the Spring Writing Contest 2017, hosted by Short Fiction Break I’ve been staring at the shy yet daring, flamingo pink line for a good half hour. It’s there, staring at me from the washing machine in the basement, judging me with its incontrovertible bluntness that I’m forty-four and pregnant with my third child. In the… Continue reading Everything happens for a reason
Written for the Winter Writing Contest 2016, hosted by Short Fiction Break ‘Although I understand you might be attached to Charlie, under the law your dog is considered the same as a piece of furniture.’ Terrible. I backspace everything to a blank page, then look out the window, frustrated the words for my last counsel… Continue reading Gemma and the warmth of snow
