Abby Smith
Stories (3/0)
Take a Deep, Deep Breath
Sometimes I lay on my back atop the mattress of my bed, with the lights off, and I stare at the ceiling fan as the blades rotate in a 360-degree angle. With my head back and my feet hovering just above the carpet, I lay perfectly still and imagine my feet are dangling over a ravine. Whenever I decide to do this, my mind works to portray what it would be like if I had the chance to actually visit a gorge, to actually live my life at my own liberty, and not someone else’s. Where I reside, it is required that people as young as myself are accompanied by a therapist until they reach the age of 18. The assigned therapist makes a living off of forming almost every opinion, decision, and idea for their forced patient. Being that I only recently turned 16, I have 2 years until I can lead a life of my own. For now, I must continue to live by the regulations of my therapist, Imogen.
By Abby Smith3 years ago in Futurism
When Legs Beat Water
The seas were rising at a rate faster than ever. Nobody in the town of Villarue knew what going on, nobody- except the mad fisherman who lived along the shore. It was just minutes until the annual "Villarue Bull Stampede" was to commence, and unless somebody alerted the mayor of the rising tides, it was set to be a disaster. The insane fisherman chuckled to himself as he questioned whether or not to allow the race to happen, that being, the race between the totally outraged bulls and the even more outraged sea. There was something all too alluring in the idea of watching the town go berserk, for what better time was there to eat popcorn?! So it was, the lunatic of a fisherman waltzed off to a nearby hill, ecstatically awaiting the imminent chaos to strike little Villarue.
By Abby Smith3 years ago in Fiction