Lucia Linn
Bio
”Some days I feel like playing it smooth and some days I feel like playing it like a waffle iron.” -Raymond Chandler
Bits of fantasy and poetry and whatnot here, comedic comics on Instagram @mostlymecomics
Stories (33/0)
The Clowns Named Her Martha
FADE IN INT. CAR ON THE HIGHWAY- NIGHT MARTHA(18), a very small high school senior, dressed smartly in well ironed dress pants and a dark blazer, flicks at her hair as she drives, eyes fused to the road. Leaning back in the passenger seat with her heels on the dash, we see SOLA, an equally petite teen, a perfect doppelganger of her sister other than the stark contrast in fashion. Her thick bleached hair is in high pigtails and her outfit resembles Harley Quinn. SOLA groans unconvincingly.
By Lucia Linn2 years ago in Fiction
A Trying Circumstance
When I had closed my eyes, I had been on my back, flopped on the deliciously fuzzy living room carpet in my humble abode, exhausted from the tremendous effort of rolling over over and over again for the big womens with whom my mother was well acquainted. It was trying work, but it had earned many coos and tummy tickles so I felt my rest was well deserved.
By Lucia Linn2 years ago in Fiction
Tolaeth
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. I didn’t see it. Thren did. From her hiding spot. When she was running away from her foster parents or from the other kids, she’d go to a place just inside the yard of the cabin. No one, not even adults, would go past the sequoias. So, she was never found.
By Lucia Linn2 years ago in Fiction
The Mist Moves
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. A girl stands, holding the flickering light and looking out. The lone cabin was the last trace of human life on the edge of the woods. She takes a breath and opens the door.
By Lucia Linn2 years ago in Fiction
Me Nights
My dad is busy. I don't remember a time where he hasn't been. He chose a difficult career to succeed in and it required a good deal of commitment. But his passion is one I share, and his role as a story teller is wrapped up in his identity, as an individual but also as a father. But yes. Busy. Very busy.
By Lucia Linn2 years ago in Families
Haze
The grass was dead and the trees bowed under the weight of nearly ripe fruit until the leaves almost grazed the ground and even little Molly could pick pears and apples without needing to be picked up. Late August was heavy on the world. The whole yard between the fences and the neighbor yards beyond it lay languidly in death and new life as hazy heat settled over everything. The dirty plastic swing rocked itself and its frayed rubber covered chains in the gentle breeze. The day was bright, but you could only find the sun if you were looking for it. A gray-white veil cloaked the sky, and even the intense rays of the sun could only pierce it enough to make a small discolored speck in the army of clouds—almost as if the sky had something bright stuck in its teeth. It should have been windy. The air seemed to be considering it, in an uncommitted sort of way. And perhaps afterwards there would be rain. And maybe water could wash away the beautiful monotony of dust and gray.
By Lucia Linn2 years ago in Earth
A Witch and a Jar
“Only one in one hundred magical persons are actually born with an innate gift for magic. Perhaps there are more people on the globe who possess this power naturally, but aside from this one in one hundred, they apparently have the good sense to choose an alternate career to witchery. Concerning the other ’99,’ they all ‘borrow’ their skills. Chapters 3-5 provide specific details on this process and chapters 6-10 address the inevitable debts. It is in every witch’s interest to make sure these debts are paid by someone else.” -Supernatural Debt and Debtors by Dr. Brynne
By Lucia Linn2 years ago in Fiction