Mackenzie Dickeson
Bio
Stories (5/0)
There Goes the Neighbourhood
Great Grandpa Edward’s ninetieth birthday party was meant to be a celebration, but it quickly became a crime scene. This would have come as more of a shock to the neighbourhood if it had not been for the Hargroves’ reputation for drama. There were often screaming matches between the eldest siblings in the family, and more than once law enforcement had been called to a Hargrove barbeque. This would have been less frustrating for the neighbours if it were not for the fact that the family had weekly Sunday barbeques.
By Mackenzie Dickeson3 years ago in Fiction
Hidden in The Hay
The sun crested the hill behind the Big House, its rays bearing down on the farmyard. Della lifted her head and closed her eyes, breathing in the morning. A loud popping sound erupted from the sky, causing her to flinch and snap her eyes open. A massive iron bird shot across the blue sky, screeching as it passed by. Della scrambled to her feet, letting out a low of fear before shuffling quickly towards the Barn. The iron birds had become more frequent in the last few months, and they made Della uneasy. Heinrich and Liesel had certainly appeared more harried when they came to the Barn to look after Della and the pigs. Della could sense the tension in Liesel’s fingers as she pulled on Della’s udders, draining her milk into a pail. She had overheard Liesel’s hushed conversation with Heinrich about hiding the little girl, and Heinrich’s brow had furrowed in anxiety. Hiding the girl would bring danger to the farm, Della could tell.
By Mackenzie Dickeson3 years ago in Fiction
Cycling Through Love
The cloudless sky filled the lounge with blinding sunlight. “Can we get some curtains down in here?!” Naomi’s impatience was clear as she pushed through a cluster of cameramen. A PA scurried past her to jerk down the window shades. “Take it from the top.” Naomi had moved to a folding chair facing away from the light.
By Mackenzie Dickeson3 years ago in Humans
A New Beginning
You stand on the platform, your auburn locks blowing behind you in the breeze. Your face is serene, as if you do not have a care in the world. You always carry yourself with an effortless grace. You carry your emerald purse today, the one with the brass locks. I smile to myself when I see you. I watch through the window as you step onto the train and float down the aisle, your dainty Oxfords silent against the bustle of your fellow passengers. I sit on the chair across the aisle from you, watching as you slip your little notebook from your coat pocket. A man in a checkered business suit slides into the seat across from you, a grin spreading across his smarmy face as he catches a glimpse of your lovely frame. He reaches up to his ear to turn off his Bluetooth before attempting to engage you in conversation. You peer up through your lashes, artfully curled, murmuring your thanks at his flattery before you disappear into your reading. You are pensive as you read, chewing the end of your pen with those pearly whites as you ponder the page. Suddenly you glance up at me and hurriedly I turn away, pretending to read my novel. I am captivated by you, but I wish that it was not so obvious. When it is safe to look back at you, I see that the businessman has spread his legs over the edges of his seat, forcing you to turn to one side to avoid touching him. He has begun an overly loud telephone conversation, complete with emphatic hand gestures. I immediately despise him. I spend the remainder of the train ride alternately scowling at his rudeness and catching glimpses of you watching the world go by outside the window.
By Mackenzie Dickeson3 years ago in Criminal