I have enjoyed writing for most of my life, never professionally.
I wish to now share my stories with others, lets see where it goes.
Born and raised on the Canadian Prairies, I currently reside on the West Coast. I call both places home.
The Final Suit.
A cardboard box, why would he even suggest such a thing? Abbey swept the last of the imaginary dirt into the empty dustpan. Staring nowhere and everywhere, as she carefully hung the broom back in the closet for the fourth time that morning. Each motion was mechanical, pure reflex, without thought.
It was all because of the butterfly. If it weren’t for that, I wouldn't be here, with a hood over my head and dust choking every breath I take. Being stuffed in the trunk of a car, driving down, what I can only presume is a hole infested dirt road. Heading to only God knows what fate is in store for me. How ever this plays out, my hip will never be the same, and what is that smell?