Erin Hensley
Achievements (1)
Stories (11/0)
principle of equivalence
There is a phenomenon I’ve discovered in my life, a theory if you will. The scientific background of my formative years poured into the philosophical musings of my current circumstances. I’m in danger of romanticizing the direst straits of my life but it’s how I survive.
By Erin Hensley2 years ago in Poets
Finders Keepers
It was a sticky hot kind of August day, the type of weather that usually had me headed indoors or sprawled under a fan somewhere moaning about the humidity. This Saturday was an exception. I was working at our company’s 90 year reunion, chauffeuring dozens of graduates and their guide dogs around town and greeting familiar faces, both human and canine. I had a brief break in the action between duties to drive down the long winding hill and let out my two dogs, who were enjoying their own air conditioning in the staff dog building. Lucky little devils.
By Erin Hensley2 years ago in Petlife
Terra
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. They are wrong. San Diego, CA Susanne Miller rests on a beach towel, liberally applying sunscreen to her long pale limbs. She reaches it out in offering to her sixteen year old daughter Angel, who looks up from her phone briefly and waves it off in annoyance. Susanne sighs but tosses it in her canvas beach bag.
By Erin Hensley2 years ago in Earth
Bumblephuc
I wake up with a jolt as the seat beneath me lurches to one side. Blinking the sleep out of my eyes, I sit up and look around. I'm on a commuter train, a few random passengers visible from my seat. I glance out the window and quickly look away, the scenery whipping past stirring up some nausea. I must've been drugged at the end of our meeting. I reach a hand up to rub my face and something falls out of it. I lean down to pick it up off the floor and freeze, eyes wide as I stare at the item in my hand. I'm holding a gun.
By Erin Hensley2 years ago in Fiction
A Reckoning Wind
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. And there had never been a queen on the throne. Until now. I look out over the table of pompous blithering lords and sigh inwardly. It has been a week since my sudden ascension to the throne. A week since the King’s Guard found me weeping, awash in the blood of my beloved father as he lay dying in his chamber. Half the kingdom remains in mourning over his passing while the other half squabbles over who can rightfully claim the throne. The King’s Guard has fallen into disrepute, shamed for their inability to protect the king from an assassin. As well they should.
By Erin Hensley2 years ago in Fiction
The Watcher
The cool autumn breeze ruffles her soft amber feathers as the watcher surveys her domain. Others of her kind seek the warmth and familiarity of hay lofts or the forest. She prefers it here in the cemetery. It’s peaceful and quiet aside from the occasional sobs of mourners. The mice are plentiful, fat and juicy, and she sleeps well most days under a blue sky. It is rare that she encounters a human sadly trailing its way across the grounds before sinking before a granite slab and weeping. Most nights and even days really, the cemetery stands empty aside from its watcher.
By Erin Hensley2 years ago in Humans