Laura Merchant
Bio
Writer. Teacher. Performer. INFJ. Disney enthusiast. Texan.
Instagram & Twitter: @LMerchant84
Achievements (1)
Stories (15/0)
- Top Story - May 2023
Tastes Like ChickenTop Story - May 2023
When was the last time you ate crow? I mean figuratively, of course, as the carrion-eating crow is generally deemed an unappetizing food, even mentioned Biblically as an animal that should not be consumed. Really! I'm talking about those emotionally hard-to-swallow moments that get your stomach churning and leave you second-guessing yourself well into the wee hours of the morning. We've all been there, but I tend to put myself in a position to eat crow like it's a culinary delicacy.
By Laura Merchant11 months ago in Motivation
- Runner-Up in Ludicrous Limerick Challenge
Sediments and Sentiments
If walls could talk, they would say, “Stay strong and keep going!” Seeing as I am now Jericho’s crumbled reminder of the once-fortified fortress, this may sound moot, but after what transpired, I’m too excited to be distressed! Despite my current status, big things are happening here. Breakdowns have a reputation for being negative, yet I wonder how one can have a breakthrough without one. Furthermore, what doors will open once the walls come down?
By Laura Merchantabout a year ago in Motivation
I Am a Rock; I Am an Island
With visible breath, the ocean calls to me. I don’t know how I got here, yet, here I am, studying stripes of tan and white painted along the sides of this dramatic shoreline. The brisk air smells fresh and salty. Surrounded by water, the island is only accessible by some naval transport. With visible tracks, I find my way to the edge of the water, and soon sparkling sprinkles of refreshing spray splash my face friendly in an encouraging whisper as if to say, “Look! There it is!”
By Laura Merchantabout a year ago in Motivation
- Top Story - April 2022
FIT FOR A KING
The morning sun burst through the windows of the east tower, past the curtains onto the floor. A tall, thin shadow of a man brought the curtains to a close and breathed deeply at the relief of darkness. He liked the dark; it was where he did his best work. The elder ran a wiry hand through his long white beard. Gone were the days of old and gray. Now there was only old. But the alchemist wouldn't be retiring any time soon. There was too much to be done. Especially now. As he considered the task at hand, there was a knock at the door, which Olevander the Mild quickly rushed to answer.
By Laura Merchantabout a year ago in Fiction