Jennifer Miller
Stories (6/0)
Raphael
She didn’t see the moment Rafael fell, but she felt it, and smelt it, and tasted it. The smell of fresh cut grass filled her nostrils. She always hated that smell. It reminded her of the summer of 2008 and she did not want to relive that moment again. The taste of bile and copper grew in her mouth until it turned her stomach.
By Jennifer Miller3 years ago in Fiction
Making myself pretty for inner peace
Making myself pretty for inner peace So, I found something out recently. I found out that not all women wear makeup. Literally hardly any of my real-life friends wear makeup. However, I love to. I say real life because I have several friends online, and they all do.
By Jennifer Miller3 years ago in Blush
The Longest Ten Minutes
Good God! Had it really only been two minutes since she last looked at the time? No way! What was taking them so long? Grace Paulson forced herself to look at the man who sat across the table from her, even though the sight of him turned her stomach. The man who happened to share the same last name as her. The man who had made her life a living hell for the last ten years. Countless trips to the emergency room for “trips” and “falls”. Yeah, right!
By Jennifer Miller3 years ago in Fiction
The Winter Ball
The sun shone down, it’s brilliant rays illuminating the whole entire place. Her aunt’s barn wouldn’t have been her first choice for the Christmas ball, but she had to admit, she could see the building all decked out for Christmas, and she was quite impressed. As well, the weatherman reported it would be a beautiful 62 degrees. Unheard of in Illinois at Christmas, but well, she was grateful. There was electricity in her aunt’s barn, recently added, and they had bought some very safe space heaters, but Clarissa didn’t like the idea of space heaters. Not since…It wasn’t worth dwelling on now.
By Jennifer Miller3 years ago in Fiction
The birthday party
Hope opened up her door and grabbing her trash marched towards the community trash. Quite proud of herself for only using one bag this month she hoisted the 20 pound bag into the metal bin. Adjusting her mask, she dashed to her little hut for she couldn't stay at long for she wasn't wearing her protective gear.
By Jennifer Miller3 years ago in Fiction