Adelheid Berg
Bio
Stories (6/0)
Soupy the Alarm
The morning is quiet. She can hear breathing from the other end of the bed, it is soft and steady and she knows they sleep. She waits. House sounds drift in. The day is beginning! Still they do not stir. This is a call to action! She scoots across the bed, lays her head on their belly and wiggles, tail thumping. Their breathing changes but they pretend to sleep on. She wiggles more, and rolls over, back of her head on their belly, wiggling until she feels the muscles contract and hears reluctant laughter.
By Adelheid Berg12 months ago in Fiction
Of Pheasant, and Gooseberry Tarts
The morning is quiet. The air itself does not stir, the sun barely dares peak over the horizon. In her 12 years she’d not known such a morning. She remains in bed and traces shadows on the ceiling and imagines dragons, and soldiers, and kings, unsure of what to do.
By Adelheid Berg12 months ago in Fiction
Not Dottie
If there was anything Abigail loved more about her job at the aquarium than scuba diving with the sharks, it was working the late shift all alone. After the visitors and front of house teams had departed, the muzak had been shut off and the lights dimmed, she could focus on her work and the animals. Plus a couple times each night she was literally empowered to do nothing but log the status of the exhibits. She was given a checklist and a few basic tools and a flashlight to use. From her walk through of the submerged tunnel with the silently moving sharks, rays, red drum, jacks, and sea turtles casting ever fluctuating shadows all around her, to her temperature and pressure checks in the loud, but static, pump room, she was left to her own devices. Heaven.
By Adelheid Bergabout a year ago in Horror
None So Blind
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Paige stood in the clearing, seeking light, but anticipating only darkness and a lonesome, cold, damp walk home. As she waited in the quiet, she heard the strike and sizzle of a flame being born, and then, as if it had always been, the candle beacon glowed to life. Paige watched, amazed.
By Adelheid Berg2 years ago in Horror