Call Me Les
Bio
Aspiring etymologist and hopeless addict of children's fiction.
If I can't liberally overuse adverbs and alliteration, I'm out!
Instagram @writelesplaymore
~&~
Achievements (1)
Stories (99/0)
Denouement Aboard the Disoriented Express
The droning buzz of indiscernible conversation awakens me; it filters into my mind like bees searching for their hive, spreading throughout my body until it reaches my heart and nestles there. I gasp, open my eyes and my heart beats for the first time. From the shadows, I take in my surroundings.
By Call Me Les2 years ago in Fiction
- Top Story - July 2022
The 1000 WordsTop Story - July 2022
Hardly anyone knows what I do; my field is uncommon, and the degree required can be lengthy depending on what type of role you want to pursue. Most times, even when I do disclose either my title or field, people still say, "huh??"
By Call Me Les2 years ago in Journal
Let Feedback Ring
Criticism. Rejection. Feedback. The holy trinity of a writer's worst nightmare. No wonder we use pen names. Gabino's thoughts ring true for short stories and Vocal articles as well; basically, anything that comes from an author's inner world is close to our heart. Sometimes, sharing your work with the public feels like walking into a room naked. But, like, not just naked, covered in warts with a bad haircut, and the audience is your former high school classmates kind of naked.
By Call Me Les2 years ago in Journal
- Top Story - March 2024
One to See, One to Speak, One to ListenTop Story - March 2024
Contains gore and horror some readers may find disturbing. Rated 14+ Author's Intro: This story is meant to revive the Gothic literature so famously crafted by one of my favourite writer's, Edgar Allen Poe, and as such, the language and style is deliberately antiquated. Thank you for reading my all time favourite work of horror - Les
By Call Me Les2 years ago in Horror
Cabin Special
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. It wasn't a real candle; no, it was one of those tacky, neon signs shaped like one. Below it read the words: SPELLS & WEDDINGS FOR CHEAP. Nevertheless, it was a beacon in the twilight, spilling into the darkness of the bleak, dense forest, which surrounded the cabin like a cloak. For the hikers, it was a welcome sight—they'd reached their strange destination at last.
By Call Me Les2 years ago in Fiction
The 'Last Supper'
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The candle, much like the man who lit it, was a lingering piece of history, which had been all but swallowed by the flow of time. Few still living remembered how to use manual implements anymore; and certainly not one as antique as a candle.
By Call Me Les2 years ago in Horror
Margaritas, Baby
Walk with me. You are twenty years old, sitting in a dive bar on the outskirts of San Antonio. San Antonio is the desert. You prefer the snow, yet love led you astray. This isn't the kind of bar that will serve you some trendy, alcohol-free beverage besides Coke, and Coke is not going to be enough to rescue a Canadian in Texas after a long day of spelunking.
By Call Me Les2 years ago in Proof
- Top Story - June 2022
To a Father
I am a collector of father figures; no one who knows me well would ask why. I recently lost my former father-in-law, a man who made fatherhood—parenthood—his primary mission in life. It will always be a wound on my soul that I didn't get to give him a grandchild, just perhaps less raw than it is today.
By Call Me Les2 years ago in Families