Annika Johnson
Achievements (1)
Stories (5/0)
P4sSw0rds!*: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.
The new year is upon us, and many of you are surely creating or following a myriad of good-intentioned resolutions. Some might resolve to workout, others to eat better or spend more time with family. No matter what your resolutions, the new year is a time of improvement for everyone. Each January, we run advice articles written by several of our experts on a topic you voted for; this year’s winner is “digital literacy”! From passwords to phishing, above all, we want our readers to be tech-savvy in the new year!
By Annika Johnson about a year ago in Fiction
Train of Thought
I open my eyes and blink several times. My vision focuses in slow increments, like frames of some old film. My heart drums away slowly. I exhale and swallow once, noting the excruciating dryness of my throat. Looking up, I see an old woman sitting directly across from me. She is beautiful, with short white hair and just a bit of lipstick, like she knew (not in a conceited way) that nothing could possibly be added to her loveliness. She is sleeping soundly. I feel a strange sadness, seeing her in such a vulnerable state. I wonder where I am: is this some lovely angel visiting me in my sleep? I smile, settling into this wonderful mystery. To my left is a middle-aged man and a woman, whom I presume to be his wife, both asleep, hand in hand. I turn and catch the eye of a young boy, probably their son. He has soft brown eyes and seems around five, with an atrocious haircut. Looks to be his own work. I grin. He smiles back. What a nice family, I think to myself.
By Annika Johnson 2 years ago in Fiction
- Runner-Up in Return of the Night Owl Challenge
Through His Eyes Runner-Up in Return of the Night Owl Challenge
Just as dusk dissipated into the horizon, and the moon floated up into that great ocean of New England sky, a single barn owl came to roost on the branch of an old aspen tree. He landed, grooming himself briefly, and then settled in. Always watching, always alert, his eyes seemed to swallow the night whole. The forest was still, waiting for some indefinable arrival. The owl blinked once, eyelids sheathing this great reflection of sky. He is almost omniscient, the way he takes the forest in, totally, completely, without remorse.
By Annika Johnson 2 years ago in Fiction