Jennifer Trease
Stories (6/0)
No more "Sorry", Only Me.
I am no longer going to apologise for being exactly who I am. There are so many facets to my identity – so many I am still exploring even now. It is a lifelong journey, it feels, and I have only very recently started opening my eyes to the possibilities of who I truly am, and not who everyone expects me to be.
By Jennifer Trease5 months ago in Humans
A Letter to You
Dear You, There are so many things I want to say to you. So much that I appreciate you for and want to thank you for. There is so much about you that I love. I want to tell you – I want to shout it at you. I need you to know about how my brain works, and then the serene difference of how it works when I'm with you.
By Jennifer Trease12 months ago in Humans
The Moon Goddess
It takes exactly fourteen hours on foot to cross the dusty plains from our town to the next. Traders make the trip multiple times a month during the days where the light stays the longest, though many that leave do not return. I pray to the Sun God every night, that they found safe haven within the neighbouring city and decided to continue their lives in Docklands. Father never returned. Father would have tried his hardest to come back to us, to his family. I know in my heart that father is no longer of this world.
By Jennifer Trease3 years ago in Fiction
The Moon Goddess
It takes exactly fourteen hours on foot to cross the dusty plains from our town to the next. Traders make the trip multiple times a month during the days where the light stays the longest, though many that leave do not return. I pray to the Sun God every night, that they found safe haven within the neighbouring city and decided to continue their lives in Docklands. Father never returned. Father would have tried his hardest to come back to us, to his family. I know in my heart that father is no longer of this world.
By Jennifer Trease3 years ago in Fiction
Tell me your story...
It fell from a window above as she walked past one of the hundreds of apartment buildings. A little, black notebook thumped onto her head and now lay open in her hands. Looking up, she couldn't see where it had originated from, nor did it seem to have any writing in it to identify its owner, but something about the notebook told her that she was meant to find it that day and she held onto it as she continued her long walk to work.
By Jennifer Trease3 years ago in Humans