L. M. Williams
Bio
I'm a self-published author that enjoys writing fantasy/supernatural/romance novels and occasionally dabble in poetry and realistic fiction. If not writing, I'm a freelance artist and a full time mom.
Stories (78/0)
When This is All That's Left
The strobe lights rove over the dark walls, exposing neon words spray-painted onto the walls a millennium ago. Gang signs and slang that no one can even recognize anymore. A heavy bass drowns out the words--if there are any--to the song that is playing. Each thump of music reverberates throughout her entire being. Every pulse shakes a bit more of the settled ash and dust free. The air is cloudy, creating almost an ethereal glow to the club.
By L. M. Williams3 years ago in Filthy
Antiquities Keeper
If you wake up early enough in the morning, when the earth is still settled and hasn't yet woken, before those who remain stir the dust, you can see the sun. Well you can't see the sun. No one can. No one has for at least one-seventy years. But in those quiet still minutes you can see this bright glow through the hazy grim layer that fills the sky. And it's beautiful. The sun itself a deep burning orange with a haloed glow around it, where the smog almost looks like gold.
By L. M. Williams3 years ago in Fiction
LEMONAID Health
I've struggled with my mental health for most of my life. Considering all things, I've been pretty lucky though. For quite some time I'd been able to manage things without outside assistance, but over the past year my anxiety has become completely overwhelming and out of control. And as most individuals who have anxiety and depression know the vicious cycle of these two feeding off of each other. I either spent days oversleeping or not able to sleep at all because I couldn't turn my brain off. Eating was extreme or nonexistent. And for the first time in a very long time I had the desire to hurt myself again, mostly in the form of scratching my skin (sometimes to the point of bleeding) to help calm my worst anxiety attacks. One night as I stood in line at CVS to buy extra large Band-Aids, normally a completely inconspicuous item but somehow felt dirty like I couldn't let other people know what I was buying--and more specifically why I was buying them--, to cover the deep scratches on my thigh that I finally admitted to myself that I needed help.
By L. M. Williams3 years ago in Psyche
Save The Chubby Unicorns
Over the years I've heard more and more about how the pollution on this planet has gotten out of control. You see recycle bins popping up near everywhere next to trash cans. Businesses and schools proudly claim to be "going green" and I've been left to ask myself how I can help. What is it I can do?
By L. M. Williams3 years ago in Earth
Save The Whales!
"Save the whales! Save the whales! Stop using water! Honk to save the whales!" The chanting continued as I tried to enjoy my arts and crafts indoors. Drawn to the point of irritation I went to the front door and peered out to see my little sister marching in wide circles around the front lawn with a hand written sign in the drunken scrawl that can only belong to an eight-year-old. In true picketing fashion, her little construction paper sign is haphazardly taped to a ruler and she's pumping her little arms up and down, shaking her sign at any car that drives past our corner house.
By L. M. Williams3 years ago in Earth
A Balloon A Day
I'm a freelance artist, mostly just trying to make my way in the world, but also desperately wanting to help change the way people perceive the world around us. A couple years ago, I started a project dear and near to my heart, "A Balloon A Day."
By L. M. Williams3 years ago in Psyche
Box of Crayons
You can be anything you want to be that's what they told me. So, on Monday I'm orange like a bright curious bubble of light floating along, wandering, no exploring, the world around me. Everything appearing bright and shiny and new. The possibilities near
By L. M. Williams3 years ago in Poets
Indulgences
The light catches his smooth dry scalp. All natural, he always jokes. When he was younger he never thought having hypotrichosis would work in his favor. He had too large of a forehead and the absence of eyebrows never helped with that. The glaring stares he'd receive just for existing were near unbearable. He recalls, from what could have truly been a different life, that once he snuck into his mother's make-up bag while she slept off her most recent hangover and stole her eyeliner to draw these shaky horrifyingly too thick eyebrows on his face. But as time went by and he grew more into his body, he grew into being bald. Was pretty damn good looking if he said so himself.
By L. M. Williams3 years ago in Horror
Day 136
"Captain log entry. Early morning. It's been one-hundred and thirty-six days since I've been stranded here. There are others here with me at least two dozen, but none of them are worthy explorers or survivalists as I am. Most of them are tourists who expected an eventful vacation, a break from the grueling monotony of their daily lives. They speak of how this trip was supposed to be rejuvenating and calming. I doubt this is what they expected. After all, neither did I.
By L. M. Williams3 years ago in Psyche
First Impressions
I was born for this. I've waited my whole life for something like this to happen. I'm not saying that I've prayed for a mass pandemic, no that would be a bit morbid and cruel and crazy. I might be crazy, but not that crazy. No, I hoped and prayed to whatever higher power being out there that would listen to a girl like me that something would happen (like a freak blizzard or everyone's doors got glued shut or like an alien attack?) to keep everyone inside so for once in my life I could be normal. Just like everyone else.
By L. M. Williams3 years ago in Psyche