Aimee Pieper
Bio
Hi there! I am a college student with a deep rooted love for reading, writing, and art. I most often write fiction. I really appreciate any support of my work! If you want to learn more about me, check me out! https://linktr.ee/artsietango
Stories (5/0)
Oracle
“Have you visited the Oracle again recently?” “No, why?” “Well, what if you forget something? About, y’know…” “Please,” I sighed with exasperation, pushing my hair out of my face. “I’ve been told my future since birth. I know what to avoid. Not that I’m so sure it’ll happen anyway.” My friend, Amani, watched me nervously as I hopped up on a rock wall, just trying to show how much I really cared. Which is to say, little.
By Aimee Pieper3 years ago in Humans
Vivika's Bones
My best friend is a ghost. We met when I moved into her family’s old estate a couple seasons ago. My mother, Pamela Wirth, and her sister, Patricia Aberforth (recently married out of the Wirth family name), are house flippers. They take old estates from families, make them look modern, and then resell them for a fortune. Vivika told me she doesn’t mind. I asked her since I know from some stories that ghosts dislike when people mess with their resting places. It wasn’t until today that I was fully informed that the house is not, in fact, Vivika’s final resting place.
By Aimee Pieper3 years ago in Horror
Rainy Thoughts
You look out the window, and, not for the first time that day, thought about how wrong the weather forecast had been. “But then again,” you reason with yourself, “This is Missouri, and they hardly get the forecast right anyway. I should really stop putting so much stock into what the news anchors say.”
By Aimee Pieper4 years ago in Families
The Answer
One bright, ninety-degree summer morning, two brothers played basketball in an apartment division basketball court. Their names were Atlas and Apollo. Their similarities only stretched to appearances; their brown curls tangled together with the antics of boyhood, their dark skin becoming darker with the heat of the sun. On a day such as this, Apollo felt light as a feather, while Atlas felt that he had the world on his shoulders.
By Aimee Pieper4 years ago in Futurism
As Clear as the Sun Speaks
6:00 am, Lookout Mountain, Golden, Colorado. One dark, dewy Colorado morning, a group of campers emerged early from their tents for their anticipated sunrise hike, organized by their group leader, Cathy. Cathy inhaled the cool morning air with tingling satisfaction. To her, there was nothing better than this. The wet morning air was way better than the first cup of coffee.
By Aimee Pieper4 years ago in Futurism