A. P. Cooper
Bio
I write. Point. Blank. Period. It’s what I know. It’s where I live. It’s who I am. So if you really want to get to know me, read what I write.
Stories (18/0)
Blue Skies
The world isn’t what it used to be. After the virus outbreak put us on lockdown for almost two years, War broke out, lasting five long years. The effects of nuclear and biological warfare mixing with the original viral outbreak have caused another worldwide pandemic. So the war is on “pause”, if that’s even such a thing. I don’t understand how the outbreak led to war. Most people don’t. Most people are in shock. They are so filled with fear the stench of it fills my nostrils when I step outside. The skies are forever gray.
By A. P. Cooper2 years ago in Fiction
Her Name Is Marigold
My reflection in the mirror held my gaze. My brown eyes filled with worry. Sweat turned my braid-out to frizz. Goosebumps formed on my brown skin as the chills, from my anxiety, ran down my spine. As I stared at the girl in the mirror, I could see she didn’t know what to do.
By A. P. Cooper3 years ago in Fiction
My Fallen Hero
It was sitting on the porch when I came home after picking the kids up from school. A rectangle box wrapped in brown paper. A blue envelope with only my name written on it is tied to the package with twine. Now here it is, in my office, staring back at me from my marble painted desk. Sitting in my chair, I can’t tear my eyes from it. Legs crossed, I lean forward with my elbow on my knee and chin on my fist.
By A. P. Cooper3 years ago in Fiction
Chocolate Kiss
There she is. Sitting on the floor in the manga aisle, with a book in hand. Her back against the shelves. Her eyes deep in the manga she’s reading, piercing through her square, red frames. Her eyes widen and her mouth drops as she reads. A smile plays on my lips. Without looking away from the page she reaches for her frappucino, bringing the green straw to her lips. Her soft lips. My skin prickles with heat. I follow her hand as she sets her drink back down. She sits with her knees together and feet apart. Her coffee brown skin shimmers. Her curly afro out in full glory. God, she is gorgeous! I just want to lay her head on my chest while we watch anime. I want to give her soft kisses so she knows how much I love her; how much I don’t want to lose her. Aaliyah. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. She reaches up to adjust her suspenders. Red suspenders over a white top with a plaid skirt and high tops. Her style is impeccable. Here I am in oversized overalls. She looks up at me. Her eyes are curious. Probably wondering why I’m blatantly staring at her. How long have I been standing here like a creep? I have to say something.
By A. P. Cooper3 years ago in Fiction