Amelia Michels
Bio
Poetry & Prose, but definitely excerpts from my journal
Instagram @amelia.michels
Stories (9/0)
The First Time And The Last
We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. With the passenger seat window slightly jarred, emerald green leaves and whistling water cocooned my senses as the Land Rover climbed over the pent-up snow. My sleepiness quickly dissipated, I sat up tall and pressed my face as close to the windscreen as possible – in keen anticipation for my first encounter with snow. This wet, burning, cold substance had become a soon-to-be-ticked-off bucket list item.
By Amelia Michels4 months ago in Fiction
A letter to my Hero, my late Poppy
When I think of love, I think of you and Nanna. You, so eternally positive and strong, never leaving when the going got tough. Instead, you would walk over an hour to that nursing home, every single day. And God forbid you missed a day, she would have been devastated. Which is just a testament to how much she loved you too. And as your memory began to fade, one thing remained the same – your cherished memory of her. When I think of love, I think of your forever friends, your neighbors – Peggy and Charlie, and how you brought your grave plots beside each other. Laughing at the fact you’ll now be neighbors in life and death. Because love is spending eternity together in any way you believe possible. Love is, collecting all your spare change in a money tin and splitting it between your grandchildren.
By Amelia Michelsabout a year ago in Families
You can be more than one thing
Imagine being told you can only eat one type of food for the rest of your life… How stressful would that be, it’s only the rest of your life! You’d spend all the time you have stressing about making this decision, settling without ever tasting the good stuff.
By Amelia Michelsabout a year ago in Journal
How one night in Africa’s New York City changed everything
I was so not ready for something I had always wanted. Leaving behind the amenity of a secure job along the countries Red Sea. Now, with very little to my name I was due to set off alone. "It's just you and me again," I say with melancholy to my reflection in the mirror. Only to crack a smile when realizing how ridiculous that looked.
By Amelia Michelsabout a year ago in Fiction
