Jessie Foley
Stories (5/0)
Descent in Limbo
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Clarence had passed by the oak cabin a thousand times. The structure was sunken after its thirty lonely years. It lived on a small lot that was darkened by overgrown tree branches and grasses that danced eerily on windless nights. Clarence's parents' house was a ten minute drive away. He had passed by each day for eighteen years on his way to school. Yet like all quiet and unlikely things in his life he had allowed it's presence to become a customary backdrop to his superior and fascinating life. Tonight the light burned like a growing thought in the recess of his mind and before he knew it he was pulling his old Buick into the brush he reckoned was a former driveway.
By Jessie Foley2 years ago in Horror
Heart and Logic
A tremor through my spine, it’s almost harvest time. Twice a day, every day since I was 7 years old…. The abysmal cloud hung softly over her shoulders. I watched her eyes sit glazed and unmoving. The dense fog flashed with black, violet, and a bloody red as its luminescence wretchedly wound about her wrists and injected into her veins. The locket hung limp around her neck as I sat uselessly in horror. I knew at that point I would have to carry it beyond without her. The colors in her veins had reached the whites of her eyes and the rainbow of tears seeped down her pallid cheeks. Her body finally fell to the ground, her soul pulled into the cloud becoming one with the whole in a most unnatural order.
By Jessie Foley3 years ago in Fiction
A Little Black Book, A Big Black Bag and A Screaming New Beginning
There are many screams you can hear in the desert at night. If you dare face the silence with patience, sometimes you can discern clues to the unfolding story. Screams of love, terror, exhaustion, or exaltation. There are endless narratives that can be heard shrieking through the darkness. The real truth to those tales are known only by those from which the screams came from. For everyone else, they can leave it to the birds.
By Jessie Foley3 years ago in Psyche
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