Karen Quinn
Stories (38/0)
Dystopian Gods of Amara
Asherah was still sitting in her palace room surrounded with emptiness and memories of times gone by. She fiddled with the necklace around her neck – her birth right and felt the power surging around her hands. She remembered the good old days of when she, Yam and El first met, and how they had saved the universe. The first war.... Her reverie broken; a booming knock came to the door.
By Karen Quinn2 years ago in Fiction
A Quiet Night
I sat on the crumbling roof of the old family barn at the furthest point away from our ranch. The sun was about to set, in a crimson orangey yellow that was like a burning inferno, against the grey-blue, tropical, dusk sky. The atmosphere was thick with a damp South American humidity that made beads of sweat trickle from my pores. I wiped my brow onto a cloth that I had as I continued to look at the amazing sunset. ‘How beautiful is this?’ I thought to myself. Looking around the ranch courtyard it was the perfect setting. Animal noises were sounding all around, as the animals were content and well looked after. It was all incredibly happy at the ranch with their ideal life, it was a blissful setting for everyone…
By Karen Quinn3 years ago in Fiction