Gillian Corsiatto
Bio
Author of Duck Light and avid musical theatre lover. Love writing spooky stuff and funny stuff đđĽ¸
My website is www.gilliancorsiatto.ca
Stories (16/0)
The Girl With the Flowers in Her Hair
First she plucked a yellow dandelion from the green, overgrown field. She admired it for just a moment, sniffed it, and then tucked it behind her ear. Next, she bent down again and plucked another dandelion, this one wispy and white, with seeds that traveled through the air softly yet with purpose when she pursed her lips and blew a gentle stream of warm breath towards it. One of the seeds landed on the tip of her nose, red and round like a cherry.
By Gillian Corsiatto3 months ago in Fiction
Every Day Another One
On the first day of October, Brooke did what she did on any other day for the past month, and walked to school. Brooke, now nineteen years old, dropped out of high school at only sixteen. She regretted this detrimental decision on the daily. Since September, Brooke had been enrolled in classes in an outreach school for students just like her who were trying to work towards their GED. With dreams of maybe going to college one day, Brooke pursued her education in this alternative school in a way that she had never pursued any education since the first few years of elementary school. Back then, her parents were still together and she still lived in a nice house. It had a basement and a yard, and she even had her own bedroom. When her parents split, all of that was taken away.
By Gillian Corsiatto9 months ago in Fiction
By Any Other Name
The baby was to be named Carl if it was a boy, or Dinah if it was a girl. The baby, currently in gestation, was to be born to parents Cyrus, the father, and Mildred, the mother. The couple had been recently married. Their wedding was as any 1920s wedding was, simple yet elegant, with bouquets of roses and peonies, and a jazz trio to bring life to the dance floor. A product of their times, Cyrus and Mildred married young and had plans never to separate for longer than a week at a time. They were to grow old together and be by each otherâs side day in and day out, in sickness and in health.
By Gillian Corsiatto10 months ago in Fiction
My Experience in the Airport as a Sunflower Lanyard Wearer. Top Story - September 2023.
A sunflower lanyard indicates in a subtle way that the wearer has an invisible disability, something that is unseen, for example, autism, anxiety, or in my case, schizophrenia. When the opportunity arose for me to go to New York, I was immediately concerned about how I would handle the travel aspect of it, specifically the airports. Airports had always made me feel stressed and nervous but the biggest difference in this trip is that I would be taking it alone. I wasnât sure this was even something I was capable of.
By Gillian Corsiatto10 months ago in Psyche
Violet's Second Chance
Grade five had ended on a sour note for young Violet. On one of the very last days of elementary school, she had been caught stealing an eraser from a grade-five-only book fair set up in the hallways. She was humiliated in front of her teacher and her entire class when a parent volunteer walked in with the school principal and pointed her out specifically as the thief. She was then forced to publicly return the eraser that she had taken and the shame she felt was all consuming. Summer vacation couldnât come fast enough after that. Maybe after two whole months of no school, her classmates from grade five would forget all about the ordeal and she could sneak subtly into middle school without catching anyoneâs attention. It was much safer to fit in quietly than to stand out.
By Gillian Corsiatto11 months ago in Fiction
With Thy Grace
Christianâs mother hadnât given much thought to his name thirty three years ago when he was born, but in his current life, it proved to suit him very well. Christian Hartfield was used to not having much money since early childhood so as an adult, living cheaply and sparingly was something he was very used to and in a way, very comfortable with. He figured he was lucky enough to have stability that he couldnât really complain about anything else. Especially not if someone, somewhere, in an invisible realm in the sky above him, was watching and judging his every move.
By Gillian Corsiatto11 months ago in Fiction
Unholy V2
Zeke Pratt seemed to be charming in all the right ways. He held the door open, paid for each date and then tipped the baristas generously, liked his coffee with one sugar two creams, and drove a red sports car with tinted windows. His shaggy brown hair perfectly matched his brown oval eyes, and he was slim and fit. Sadie was not used to such gentleness and kindness from men. Her own father had treated her cruelly growing up and now in the final year of high school, she waited for when the day would arrive that she could finally leave the house she had known for so many years and go out into the world and make something of herself. As they pulled out of the parking lot, Zeke put his arm around Sadie. She blushed shyly.
By Gillian Corsiatto12 months ago in Fiction
Show and Tell
To brighten up the frigid temperatures, Miss Newmark, the young, unmarried teacher of the sole grade two class on Memorial Drive, approached the front of the classroom where her students were quietly reading independently. During days when it was too cold to go outside for recess, the students would stay put inside. They could choose any book from the schoolâs library and they were to pass the time indoors by reading. Miss Newmark knew this was not a favourite of the students but the young teacher did not have all the resources available to otherwise corral a bunch of rowdy students who would rather be building snowmen and snow forts than warm inside with a borrowed book. The temperatures had plummeted before December had even hit, and now, merely days before Christmas vacation, the freezing weather threatened to bring frostbite and hypothermia, when all the kids wanted were new toys and clothes from Santa.
By Gillian Corsiattoabout a year ago in Fiction
Unholy
Zeke Pratt seemed to be charming in all the right ways. He held the door open, paid for each date and then tipped the baristas generously, liked his coffee with one sugar two creams, and drove a red sports car with tinted windows. His shaggy brown hair perfectly matched his brown oval eyes, and he was slim and fit. Sadie was not used to such gentleness and kindness from men. Her own father had treated her cruelly growing up and now in the final year of high school, she waited for when the day would arrive that she could finally leave the house she had known for so many years and go out into the world and make something of herself. As they pulled out of the parking lot, Zeke put his arm around Sadie. She blushed shyly.
By Gillian Corsiattoabout a year ago in Fiction
Cats Love Christmas Too
Ice built up on the inside ledge of the window. The fireplace heated the room just enough to melt some of the ice. Itâs a fine balance between the freezing temperatures outside and the warmth inside our carpeted living room. Metronomically, a drip formed. Off the window ledge and onto the floor behind the Christmas tree, bedazzled with tempting lights and ribbons, I watched the drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. My pupils widened. Curiosity and playfulness came over me.
By Gillian Corsiattoabout a year ago in Fiction
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