Leslie Strom
Bio
Hi, I come from a small town of 2,500 in Northern Ontario Canada. I love camping and fishing, which we have access to many beautiful lakes. I also knit, crotchet, sew, read and write. Our winters are very long and cold so crafting is a must
Stories (36/0)
Crushed
Droplets of water freezing before hitting the ground coming from the eves of an old cabin. Puffs of smoke crystallizing as the wood stove heats up the stove pipe. Brooklyn stood looking out the window frozen in time as if she was standing outside. She could feel her blood pumping fast, oxygen leaving her lungs, her eyes wide open, starting to panic unable to move.
By Leslie Strom2 months ago in Fiction
The man in the shadows
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn’t mine. I woke up sweaty, heart racing with the sheets on the floor. I reached for the alarm clock to press snooze one last time before I had to pry myself out of bed. I could hear the preset coffee maker brewing and the smell led me to my favourite coffee cup. Staring at the black coffee all I could see was him. The man in my dreams. Each night I dream the same dream, a man in the shadows follows me to my work and appears in the distance all day. I sit at my desk and feel him watching me. The desk flies out the window. The second story window smashes and shards of glass slowly piece by piece drip to the ground and on the floor. I see myself getting up to look out the gaping hole.The wind blows my hair forward, not backwards. I can see him standing behind the street light looking up at me. I can’t make out his face. I stand there staring at his shadow. Somehow we are connected. I feel like we now know each other. I turn to look away and then I’m in my house walking down the hallway. The hallway breaks into two sections. I know the way. I must go through the right door to get to the washroom. I feel him, I can smell him, I feel that he is following me. Tonight I open the door on the left. I open the door and see a tall standing mirror, looking into it I see a shadow of a man and I wake up.
By Leslie Stromabout a year ago in Fiction
Oriana
Oriana One two three… go! I was on my pet squirrel in a flash and we went straight up the tree. The sound of Snookie’s claws digging into the bark of the massive red tree was my favorite sound. The sound of the tree limbs cracking on each leap, the wind in my face, and the smell of pine and cedar trees today were very pungent. It rained yesterday, the smells were vivid. The drops of rain from the leaves dropping on my head made this daily race against my best friend even harder. I looked over my shoulder looking at Suzanette on her pet monkey as they were getting closer to me. I looked past her to make sure Oriana was watching us. She loved coming into the woods with us, while giggling the whole time Suzanette and I raced. She was not in her usual hole in the trunk of the tree. I stopped Snookie with the reigns around her neck to take a look. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end when I saw the tail!
By Leslie Stromabout a year ago in Fiction
Don’t close your eyes
”The cabin in the woods had been abondoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window.” Several years ago a bunch of pre-teens went camping overnight with a few chaperones to get the camping badge for scouts. The scouts program had girls in it as they were from a very small community so the cubs and girl guides joined forces. It was hard to get volunteers to commit to a 6 months program. Every year the group would walk into the bush to have competitions, learn how to make fires, learn survival techniques, learn how to read a compass and learn how to paddle a canoe. The program was a hit in the community and 10 kids showed up.
By Leslie Strom2 years ago in Fiction
Don’t run
“The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window.” I said in a low voice looking at my friends sitting around the fire. That’s when Jen shone the flashlight towards me with wide eyes. At that moment the hair in the back of my neck went straight up and felt a chill in my body.
By Leslie Strom2 years ago in Fiction
The tin chair
There weren’t always dragons in the valley he said looking at me with wide eyes. I ducked and a bullet wizzed just over my head. I could feel the hair follicles move as I rolled on the floor closer to him. We trained in Quantico together and became sparing partners, study partners and somehow along the way became lovers.
By Leslie Strom2 years ago in Fiction
The fluttering book
“There weren’t always dragons in the valley,” my mom said looking at me with sad eyes as she closed the book, kissed me on the cheek and said “good night.” I want her to continue on but it’s hard for her. When we got to that part of the story she always does the same thing.
By Leslie Strom2 years ago in Fiction