Fledgling writer stretching my skills. Corona got me back into writing my book. Then I found the challenges here on vocal. They've gotten me to expand my portfolio and my creativity. I hope you enjoy my stories. I enjoyed writing them.
An unnatural whirring outside my window stirs me from a deep slumber. I roll out of bed as silently as I can. Reaching beneath the bed, my hand grasps the shotgun I keep for emergencies. My senses are on high alert now. No one is supposed to know I’m here. At least no one who knows who I really am. I came to get away from the world.
Heart of Fire
As I soar high above the trees, the scent of prey accosts me. Despite my nagging hunger, I push myself higher into the clouds. This is the first chance I’ve had to get out on my own away from my brood in months, and I won’t jeopardize my temporary freedom for a bite to eat.
In the Dark of the Woods
“The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. “A young woman clad in a deep blue dress loomed in the second story window. Flecks of maroon liquid shimmered with the flickering light. Her hands trembled as she turned the latch and swung open the panes.
Hoard of Shadows
There weren’t always Dragons in the Valley, and frankly few knew what to make of their arrival. Until recently, dragons had been relegated to myth and legend across the world, but as of five years ago, they’ve spread everywhere. Even here in Roarin Valley. In most of the legends, dragons were fearsome beasts with leathery wings that soar, raining hellfire from above. And, maybe that was true once upon a time. But modern dragons share little with their mythological counterparts.
Shadow of the Sanctuary
I feel myself running endlessly through the streets, a dark shadow sprawling around me in the moonlight. I fall, hitting the ground hard as the shadow descends above me. I roll to my back throwing my arms over me as the creature bares its talons toward my face.
Requiem for Lost Souls
A body hangs by the neck from a tree in the distance. I stare through my binoculars across the glassy surface of the lake. The limp body swings in the light breeze, silhouetted in the light of the rising sun. One of my colleagues backs the trailer down the concrete ramp, dropping the flatbed boat into the water. The engine roars to life as we load up our gear. I climb in and we cut our way across to the little island.
Teeth of Loch Tay
So, I’ve been backpacking the Scottish countryside for the last few weeks. When I started, I just picked a small village in the highland. The village of Torridon sits at the base of the mountain Liathach in the Torridon Hills. Honestly, it was the perfect place to start my journey. I bounced from village to village seeing all the sights, meeting some of the kindest and most hardworking people.
Sunset over the Orchard
So, reader, to start this off, so there’s no confusion, I just wanted to tell you: I…am a tree. Don’t worry, this isn’t some weird metaphor. I’m not just some tall human comparing myself to a majestic plant. I am one hundred percent, bark and branches, leaves and fruit…tree.
“Far away, deep into the woods lies a lake. In the center of the lake sits an island. On that island, a pond. It isn’t just any pond, however. Even in the middle of the summer, the hottest day of the year, this pond remains frozen over. On the coldest days of winter, the ice is never more than a few inches deep, just thick enough to walk over without fear. The ice is like glass, providing a neat viewport into the world beneath.
Beauty in the Beast
Arabella stares up at the castle spires before her as dark clouds swirl overhead. She pushes open the heavy iron gate. It creaks and groans against the pressure before finally giving way. The winds pick up around her blowing the hood of her cloak into her face. She pulls the hood back pressing on into the overgrown grounds.