Cassandra Hanson
Bio
Stories (3/0)
Vulnerable
I’m 25 years old, and I’ve never been on a date. But it’s snowing outside, and it’s the middle of April. Wisconsin is notorious for weather patterns that make rare sense. In His humor, God grabbed the snowglobe marked “La Crosse” and shook it vigorously just to watch us all scatter in here-we-go-again.
By Cassandra Hanson2 years ago in Confessions
The Swamp
Dense fog encloses around Julia as she closes the doors of the library. She barely shivers, for the fog is hardly unordinary: a swamp settles beyond the town’s boundaries, snug in the center of a sodden forest. The emission of heat from the swamp’s core often sweeps into the atmosphere, eventually fleeting through the forest’s fingers to engulf the town in a deep haze. Travelers unfamiliar with the area would find the thick mist unsettling, but the townsfolk have learned to live amongst it.
By Cassandra Hanson3 years ago in Fiction