J.Galsgaard
Bio
A storyteller that graduated from USC SCA.
Full, unedited stories on Medium under the same name.
https://medium.com/@JGalsgaard
Stories (5/0)
The Vines
After years of drought, the vines dried up, kissing the ground. As the years passed, owners came and left, leaving the vineyard isolated and depressed. One day a young woman appeared, barefoot in a bohemian rose dress with fringe cascading from a shawl. Her wild red hair flowed and frizzed in the wind as she bent down and scooped dirt into her hands, thumbing the soil. Bringing the earth close to her freckle-accented face, she kissed it before giving it back.
By J.Galsgaard3 years ago in Horror
Darkened Dreams
I sometimes longed for a simpler life. One of which I was a farmer caring for my rows of fruit bearing trees. Rows of trees shuffled for dominance in my mind but I always thought being a farmer was a pipe dream. Then the pandemic hit and my life was turned upside down. I lost my job and couldn't afford the rent for long. I looked at my savings and decided to hell with it, I was going to create the simple life I wanted. Naturally, I cashed in my savings, sold my belongings and bought a small farm in the southwest coroner of Colorado. Moving from California was difficult but the open fields and land was something of my dreams.
By J.Galsgaard3 years ago in Horror
You Have A Visitor
The aurora borealis shown brightly in my mind as I closed my eyes. It danced and morphed flowing through the sky with rivers of colors in shades of green and blue. The green light ombréd into the blue glistening with every iteration. As I listened to Orinoco Flow I drifted among the colors as free as a pirate; running my hand in the stunning colors as the ripples immersed their essence onto my body. I was alive and drifting along with the most beautiful thing I could be a part of. I scooped up a splash of color in my hand watching it dance and morph cradled safely in my palm.
By J.Galsgaard3 years ago in Fiction
Seline and her shopkeeper
Bobby, the towns old shopkeeper, was a kind man. He always knew what to say when anyone came into his shop. I never got to spend time out of the shop with him which was one of my biggest regrets. Every day, I watch him as he goes about his day mesmerized at how such a loving and genuine man was always so wistful.
By J.Galsgaard3 years ago in Fiction
Marigolds:
The sun blazed brightly this morning. It warmed my skin as I ran my fingertips gently over the burnt orange petals with sun-kissed yellow edges. They were almost like velvet on my hands and the flower itself nestled gently into the healing scars on my palm. I closed my eyes enveloping my senses in the sweet, gentle smell, and the velour touch on my finger tips. I leaned forward to get a better inhalation of my senses. Ever so slowly I took in the sweet scent of peace and harmony. I leaned back with my eyes closed and stayed seated among my flora, basking in the warm sunlight. My head tilted back as the sun caressed my face. It was over. I was free.
By J.Galsgaard3 years ago in Horror
