Amelia Moore
Bio
17-year-old writer who hopes to write stories for a living someday-- failing that, I'd like to become a mermaid.
Stories (49/0)
The Lobster-Chef Interrogation
“Mrs. Peters, can you explain what happened?” “From the beginning, or-” “From the beginning.” “Oh dear, the beginning. Well, I was at the restaurant with all my friends. Christie, and Julie, and Stacey, and Karen, and Rachel, and Rachel’s odd daughter, and Julie’s husband, and Stacey’s cousin-”
By Amelia Moore2 years ago in Criminal
Pink Sticky Notes
Everyone who stepped foot in Ashley and Henry Roberts’ home was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of colour and the riot of small pieces of paper on every available surface. Ashley had everything categorised-- blue for things she needed to buy, yellow for something a friend had said that was important, orange for things she needed to do, green for addresses and emails and phone numbers, and pink for very important things that she wanted to remember.
By Amelia Moore2 years ago in Humans
Those That Walk The Cliffs
Every day she woke up tired, grey and heavy as the morning. She made the same breakfast of eggs and sausage, and when she had eaten she dressed herself in faded clothes and pulled a grey shawl over her shoulders to take her morning walk along the cliffs, and feel it crumbling away under her feet. Sometimes she wished to walk to the villages far and beyond the horizon, but she couldn't leave the man who had brought her here.
By Amelia Moore2 years ago in Fiction
Pink Sticky Notes
Everyone who stepped foot in Ashley and Henry Roberts’ home was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of colour and the riot of small pieces of paper on every available surface. Ashley had everything categorized-- blue for things she needed to buy, yellow for something a friend had said that was important, orange for things she needed to do, green for addresses and emails and phone numbers, and pink for very important things that she wanted to remember.
By Amelia Moore2 years ago in Humans
The Moulding of a Writer
The starting point for most great creative artists is in their childhood, when, through an act of brilliance, a moment of pure creativity, that result of hours of genius committing themselves to their craft, parents turned to each other and said, “Wow! Our child could change the world!”
By Amelia Moore2 years ago in Confessions
The Pitdwellers
The official name for them was “The ones below” but humanity being humanity wasn’t inclined to use official names of things that are unpleasant. More commonly they were called Pit-dwellers. The Alices of Wonderland. Hellwalkers. Worms, 500 footers, and a host of other titles declining in politeness. Even news anchors sometimes slipped up and called them one of these. You could watch the videos on YouTube.
By Amelia Moore2 years ago in Fiction
