Young (23) writer from a Midwestern state. Developed a passion for writing way back in first grade and wrote my first novel at nine. It was awful but I still love it and have it tucked away.
Eyes Like Mornings
There was a rumor among the servants that there was no room in the palace that didn’t have eyes and ears peering in at all times. The spy network of the King was vast, enough so that just about anyone could secretly be apart of it. The servants couldn’t trust each other, the guards never knew if something they said was truly safe between them, and any visitors were careful of everything they did for fear of it being used against them. Lucas was one of the few who knew that it more rumor than truth. A useful rumor though, one that made it easier for him and the few real spies to do their job. They didn’t have to focus as much attention on the inner workings of the palace when everyone was scared stiff of trying anything.
Heads Will Roll
The thing about receiving a suspicious package in the mail is that, even if you think you know what’s inside it, they’re frightening enough to leave you chilled. Sometimes they’re frightening enough to freeze you completely, to make you stand there in terror and watch the box. And the longer you watch it the more you expect it to start moving. For something to pierce through the nondescript brown paper and come crawling out. You start to imagine it happening and then you’re not sure if you’re imagining anymore.
A Chance Meeting
Even beneath the surface of the stadium, the noise of the crowd was near deafening. Even before the Battle of the day had started, before most had even taken their seats. It was like listening to the show beasts in their cages after the handlers had riled them up. Roars and grunts and wild calls. Sometimes screeching or screaming, depending on the mood of the city that week. There’d been a few times where the show had to be canceled because the crowd had devolved into a frenzy of their own. Genova didn’t think that would happen this time, though he wished it would.
Marigolds Don't Just Mean Happiness
When we first met, you told me you liked to give flowers based on their meanings. You gave me a carnation the next time we saw each other and told me it meant fascination. After our first date, you gave me a gardenia. I realized then that falling in love with you required falling in love with flowers and I did so with ease. By the time I invited you to move in, my apartment looked like a floral shop and I gave you marigolds to tell you how every moment together made me feel.