Jennifer Ogden
Bio
Several years ago I had a life-changing epiphany, "I am a writer." A writer writes. So I am here to do just that.
My greatest hope is to create stories that inspire and comfort; build communities and spark individual journeys. Enjoy 😊
Stories (14/0)
A Dragon's Choice
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. But there have always been dragon eggs. Hundreds of them. All the dragon eggs in the world in fact fill the valley of our little island, more dish-like than is traditional. It's as if one of the gods reached his hands into the ocean to cleanse his face, only the water never returned. Leaving this nationless place instead, Dragon's Isle.
By Jennifer Ogden2 years ago in Fiction
Whisky & Whiskers
When I was younger, I knew everything. Now I'm old enough to know I know nothing. Life isn't easy, that's for sure. It doesn't make sense, you can do something right one day, and the next that same thing is crap. Most of us don't know what we're doing, we're just fleshy, deadly, dying machines and no one thought to bring a manual. No one knows how we work, why we work. I suppose God does, if you're into that sort of thing. Some are, and they get a form of peace from that. I wouldn't know, God doesn't exactly come around these parts, you know?
By Jennifer Ogden2 years ago in Fiction
Painted Memories
It's been a long time. I stare at the decrepit house; shingles gone and more than one window screen either torn or missing all together. The brown foliage begs for water. I'm guessing Mr. Fothertan never bothered to turn on his sprinkler system.
By Jennifer Ogden2 years ago in Fiction
Knife & Locket
The smell of death fills every corner of this place, a smell I'm familiar with; that I've known since I knew what a scent was. Some children learn by the scent of freshly baked cookies their mother made them. I learned by the gun powder residue on my father’s hands and burning witch sage in our kitchen sink.
By Jennifer Ogden2 years ago in Fiction
The Owl Who Claimed Herself
No one likes hearing the truth, especially from a girl in pigtails. I live in a small town you've never heard of, where the swampy hot summers are in no way made up for by the pitiful excuse of a winter. Even so, I've found things to love. The quiet, the stillness in the wood that surrounds our home, the soft sounds of the lazy brook bubbling along its path. The colorful menagerie of animals, especially the birds, flying high and free. But I've never quite come to love the people. Maybe that's cause they've never really understood me. Then again, it took me some time to figure out who I was in the first place.
By Jennifer Ogden2 years ago in Fiction
- Top Story - December 2021
