Elisabeth Allen
Bio
I'm an autistic author with a folder full of unfinished books.
Pronouns: she/her
Stories (4/0)
The Lost Window
The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. She was not allowed inside his room, of course. The old man hoarded the window’s light, keeping it all to himself. He would stay in his room for hours without coming out for food or drink. The girl would try the door sometimes in these situations, but carefully. She’d been caught entering the code to open the door before. The emaciated old man had come out and shouted at her with anger intensified by his hunger.
By Elisabeth Allenabout a year ago in Fiction
Secret Satan
I was having my morning cup of coffee when I heard a high-pitched whine outside. Thinking it was the neighbor’s kids playing with their new Christmas toys, I went to the window to see what they had. I’d always wanted a flying toy when I was a kid. And while I knew there was nothing stopping me from buying one now, I didn’t want to deal with anyone staring at a grown adult playing with some flashy thing meant for a child.
By Elisabeth Allenabout a year ago in Fiction