Celeste Moody
Bio
Just a dreamer, a dabbler...
She'll disappoint you if you don't mind your demands.
Stories (7/0)
Mojave Rain
We met online March 12th 2020. I live in Vancouver, Canada and they live in London, England. You can imagine that during the best of times this would be a difficult long-distance love affair. But we met during a global pandemic, and nothing is as easy as it was before, not even the hard things. We connected instantly. Our early messages were flirty check-ins, “how are you entertaining yourself during lock-down?” I’d ask.
By Celeste Moody3 years ago in Humans
The Birthday Boy
Thanks to online social networking everyone at work knew it was my birthday today. By 9 a.m. I had wanted to crawl under my desk and hide. I’m not good with people, hell, I’m not good with pets. I just don’t know what to say, where to look, when to nod, or mumble something sympathetic and pat the person, or animal, on the head… this day was torture. Somewhere in the bowels of hell Satan was pointing and laughing as I dodged awkward hugs and tried to avoid eye contact while dozens of people I barely knew wished me happiness and good fortune. I feigned a heavy workload and kept my stare fixed on my glowing monitor.
By Celeste Moody3 years ago in Filthy
A Lemon Twist
When I was four years old I ate an entire tube of lemon scented Chapstick. I remember it like it was yesterday. My mother needed to cash her paycheck that afternoon. She pulled in to the parking lot of our local Bank of America, parked the station wagon, and told me to wait while she ‘ran in.’ That’s what mothers did back then, they left their small children unattended in cars while they completed errands. Oh, how the times have changed.
By Celeste Moody3 years ago in Filthy
The Tip
Knock, knock, knock. “Housekeeping.” The maid rapped three times on the door and swiped her pass key over the sensor as she announced her presence in a practiced but cheerful voice. She gently pushed open the door with her right hand and grabbed her tote of cleaning supplies off the cart with her left hand in one fluid motion born of repetition. Her eyes scanned the dark room as she entered and a small, but audible sigh of relief escaped her lips as she realized that room 602 was currently unoccupied. The thought of one more creepy old man leering at her while she cleaned up after him, or worse another “couple” giggling away under the covers as she sifted through their empty beer bottles and Chinese takeout containers… Ugh. She was just happy to find herself alone to do her thankless job in peace, even if there was no tip.
By Celeste Moody3 years ago in Horror