H.C. Muhs

Joined March 2021

0 stories

Bio

✌🏽 & 🖤

Hayden

(he/him/they/them)

Multidisciplinary writer: novelist, memoirist, essayist, poet.

Stories (7/0)

Dusty
Dusty 1990 Words (Note from the author - this story is being entered into the brown paper box contest and contains the contest criteria to include a suspicious package wrapped in brown paper)
By H.C. Muhs3 years ago in Fiction
Keller
( Note from the author: as an added challenge, I've decided to include all 8 elements from Vocal's Summer Challenge Series in this submission. See if you can find them! Happy writing everyone :] )
By H.C. Muhs3 years ago in Fiction
Faringor
I There was nothing in the cave but long-gone echoes, and wind, and drips of water, and bold, blue shadows cast from the blinding-bright entrance, and bones gathered in piles from the hunt—claws and beaks and tails and talons—and bones from war with the Jarochi and Kamangi tribes, and carcasses rotting in the far dark: colorless meat, stinking fur covered in bat droppings—and spines—and a throne made out of a feathered ribcage—and ribs and skulls and teeth—and our reflections in the mineral pool, him and I.
By H.C. Muhs3 years ago in Fiction
Beatrice
Beatrice 1991 words I Beep. All the doctors and the machines and the scalpels set out. Beep. All the slime covering the cobwebby head. Beep. The cord, alien-looking, made within me, cut on sight to be disposed of in a container labeled human waste. Beep. Carried this far in the womb and delivered. Through the black windowpane comes the sun, hungry and impatient, pressed against glass. In the distance, construction cranes. Outside the room, monstera plants, free-standing desks where a nurse eats ramen while scratching lottery tickets. A watercolor painting of a tiger on a scroll. Shen Yun posters—coming soon to China. Obligatory clapping for a child cancer patient making it to a gray square of carpet and back. In every room, a clock.
By H.C. Muhs3 years ago in Fiction
"The Death of the Roadtrip," or "E°," a sonnet I wrote, inspired by a time when we all had money and used to go places.
All I remember was the car had gas, Us pretending it was a stretch limo, Asking for directions through plexiglass, Eating McDonald's in our neck pillows.
By H.C. Muhs3 years ago in Poets
The Act of Running
The Act of Running by Hayden Muhs If you’re going to go for a run at night, dress in these colors: YELLOW, YELLOW+GREEN, ORANGE, CYAN.
By H.C. Muhs3 years ago in Poets
All My Friends (poem)
Nowhere else will you see coyotes in the hills but also downtown, racing the railcars, clicking the pavers, standing in lines for avocado toast.
By H.C. Muhs3 years ago in Poets