Dan Ormerod
Bio
I love to tell tall tales. I've determined that I am left with two career choices - a writer or a fisherman. If you like a little humour tucked in with your tale, give my stories a try. If things don't work out, I'm buying a boat.
Stories (7/0)
Losing Track of Time
Mary jarred at the sound of the horn, which was incredibly loud and impossible to sleep through. It sounded like the whistle from an old train engine, like one you might see in a classic film. There was no reason any sound had to be that loud, Mary thought, angered by the shocking fright. The cool catch of her breath filled her with a tingling sensation that cascaded from her core, down her arms and out through her fingertips. The horn sounded again but this time she was ready for it, although it was no less irritating.
By Dan Ormerod about a year ago in Fiction
Last Stop for Salvation
“Good, you're awake, we haven't got much time.” I jolted upright from the cot at the sound of the voice. A panicked feeling washed over me like I was late for an exam. My head began to tingle and I felt like I might throw up. I must have gotten up too fast. I sat back down and tried to steady my breath so I wouldn't pass out.
By Dan Ormerod about a year ago in Fiction
Castaway Cabin
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The light of the flame, too weak to clutch the edges of the room, barely registered on the window pane. If the moon had journeyed any further into the sky, its light would have caressed the face of the shack and Bill wouldn’t have noticed the candle at all.
By Dan Ormerod about a year ago in Horror
