Elizabeth Butler
Bio
Elizabeth Butler has a masters in Creative Writing University .She has published anthology, Turning the Tide was a collaboration. She has published a short children's story and published a book of poetry through Bookleaf Publishing.
Stories (77/0)
THE FORTHCOMING CALL
It had been sixty years, four months, and ten days and yet Joyce had not laid eyes upon them. Today was the day and as she walked through the autumnal woods, with the warm, hue colours falling, she was terrified. She felt her fingers, cold like blocks of ice, quivering like a tree being vigorously shaken by squirrels. Joyce couldn’t tell if she was frozen or scared for what she may encounter.
By Elizabeth Butler7 months ago in Fiction
Floated Away
I couldn’t tell you the first thing I wrote, because I was too young to remember, but one of the first projects I remember writing, was my own story called “Floated Away”. I think I was about seven or eight when I wrote this, back in the late 90’s or early 2000’s. I don’t know why I wrote it, but I do remember putting it all together.
By Elizabeth Butler9 months ago in Writers
What Remains of Edith Finch - A review of the unusual
What is truly real and what is fiction? A beautiful story told in an indie game format. Edith Finch makes players question what is happening, throughout the journey. Through the perspective of Edith herself, she discovers the secrets of her childhood home, dealing with the topics of death and grieving.
By Elizabeth Butler9 months ago in Critique
THE TALE OF A CLASSIC INVASION
Long golden locks, tied into neatly braided plaits. The face of an angel, with a pale complexion, Goldilocks’ bright blue eyes sparkled. The day was just warming up, the sun shining high above the clouds, over the pleasant little cottage she called home.
By Elizabeth Butler9 months ago in Horror
Why Does Time Move Forward?
Once, in a very damp and dreary place, resembling a cave, hidden away, a decrepit man lived alone. His bones were so fragile, they could crumble at any moment. His teeth, brittle like chalk. His clothes clinging to him, as if they moulded part of his skin. This old man did not live, for he hadn’t been properly born. How could he when the concept of time did not exist yet?
By Elizabeth Butler10 months ago in Fiction
The Secret Door
Standing tall above all the others, her beauty radiated like the shimmer of the sunlight. Slim as a pencil, with long spindly fingers, a garment made from the finest emerald velvet, covered her entire body, down to her ankles. The woman stood high, on golden heels of silk, towering like a heavenly goddess. Her four arms extended, cascading down the dress she wore, just hanging loose. The wings attached to her back were smooth to touch, little mountains that repeated the pattern. They fell just below her legs dragging on the cool floor. Her face was the most beautiful of all. A backward facing bird head, with beady eyes in the back of her skull, the colour of brown, grainy sugar. Her beak pointed at the end of her nose, golden and sharp like a knife. It was unclear if she could even smile, but she was the one I had loved. I could not love her enough, but the secret she kept, only kept her away from me.
By Elizabeth Butler11 months ago in Art
The Holding Tank
They were surrounded by unfamiliar waters. The seas were saltier and foggier, the smell of medicine and unnatural products filled Nixes nostrils. They knew something was wrong, they could sense it but couldn’t figure out what was happening. Nixes felt their body going around in circles. There didn’t seem to be a way out of the suffocating water. Every way they turned, met with dead ends.
By Elizabeth Butler12 months ago in Fiction