Brianna Smith
Bio
Mom, Author, Maker of Greeting Cards, Walmart Employee... I do all the things. No I'm just kidding, but I do a lot and I love it!
Stories (4/0)
Creation anxiety
I can feel my muscles tightening. My ears begin to ring. The frustrations and stresses of life are encroaching. I need out! I need to breathe. I sigh as I sit behind the glowing screen. I stare into the blackened keys as my fingers slowly start to dance across them. Words begin appearing on the screen. With each word, I breathe a little deeper. The tensions ease. The stresses all but cease. As I type I meet people and see places I could never really see. I create what I wish was here. I create what I'm scared of. I bring life to people and animals that I only am connected with. And I decide what they do and where they go. Its empowering and humbling at the same time and yet there is a responsibility to the reader. Though I don't know who you are, I worry about which characters you'll like and which ones you'll dislike. I wonder who you'll sympathize with. Who will you see yourself in? All the while, I keep typing and watching my world come to life. Finally, I'm more concerned with my new creation than the troubles of life outside of this small screen. Once again, my story saved me.
By Brianna Smithabout a year ago in Poets
Medusa
LEO’S JOURNEY Leo looks in the full length mirror on his closet door. He frowns at his shaggy blonde hair that is easy past time for a haircut and his over-sized hand-me-down clothes. 'At least the big clothes hide my fat body.' He thought to himself. 'If only something could hide this awful birthmark.' As he thought this he pulled at his hair trying to cover his eyes and left ear that were almost completely covered with the raspberry colored markings. Realizing he's done all he can, he sighs and walks away. As he walks out of his room, he steps on something squishy. He looks down to see sticky slime covering the bottom of his right shoe. Luckily the floors were hardwood here or mom would be furious. He looks to his right at his evil little sister's doorway. She stood there laughing.
By Brianna Smith3 years ago in Fiction
