Kevin Rowlett
Bio
I have been writing in some form or another since high school. I am primarily a fiction writer, including sci-fi, realistic fiction, and fantasy. I am excited to see where my writing goes, and (hopefully) how I entertain my audience. Enjoy.
Stories (8/0)
The Runaway Train
*** “...UTES UNTIL OUR DESTINATION. I REPEAT: WE WILL BE ARRIVING SOON. ETA 36 MINUTES UNTIL OUR DESTINATION.” The soft chimes of the intercom cut through the fog in my head. For a moment, I kept my eyes closed, listening. I could hear the quiet but powerful hum of a motor, although it seemed to be some distance away. I heard a steady, rhythmic ka-chunk, and was vaguely aware that I was in motion. The air smelled recycled, as if it had been run through the same ventilation system for some time.
By Kevin Rowlett2 years ago in Horror
Eyes on You
-Quistis' POV- 'Here we go again…another year, another dance. I should just leave, but Cid wouldn't allow it.' Quistis Trepe sighed and looked back at her half-empty glass of wine. She hated these dances. The only thing these dances were good for was getting her away from her desk for a night. …It also gave her fan club night to ogle at her in a dress.
By Kevin Rowlett2 years ago in Fiction
Valentines Day
Squall sighed for what seemed like the millionth time. He had just turned away another female SeeD candidate who tried to shove somewhere in the vicinity of two-dozen roses in his face, and three more before that who had tried to get him to take them to the annual Valentines Ball. He turned around and again almost had roses up his nose.
By Kevin Rowlett2 years ago in Fiction
Mini-Mart Hold-up
The heat was unbearable. Barely three days into June, and it was already 97 degrees. Living in downtown Chicago wasn’t helping matters much; the sun reflected up off the asphalt easily raised the temperature 10 degrees. Combine that with the sheer number of people and vehicles, and you have a recipe for disaster.
By Kevin Rowlett2 years ago in Fiction
The Green-Eyed Monster
The green-eyed monster just reared its ugly head. That bitch, she thought, that stupid, fucking bitch. How dare she? Kristine sat at her desk, fuming. Her co-worker April (what kind of name was April? It sounded like a stripper) was living up to her brown-nose reputation. Before April got hired, Kristine was one of the favorites; she did her work well, she was polite and knowledgeable, and she was held in very high regard. But that all changed when April started.
By Kevin Rowlett2 years ago in Fiction
