Madison York
Bio
Stories (6/0)
The Rendezvous
I scattered my hand across the hot metal wall covered in dirt, feeling for the latch. Pili moved with me, her head up, watching. We didn’t dare risk talking in case someone was listening, and we couldn’t use a torch this far into the woods. We’d be too obvious. We needed to find the damn bunker door in the dark.
By Madison York3 years ago in Fiction
Sunrise
The air was cold and thick with smoke. It was damp from the coastal breeze. Everything around us was crumbling, and on fire, and loud. Julian held my hand as we ran. We’d been running for years, scared and full of anger. We scurried through alleys trying not to look back. Gunshots fired in the distance, though, and our curiosity always got the better of us. Had we gotten far enough? Were we safe from the riot? The war? For a moment, maybe. You couldn’t really get away from the revolution. Our propaganda was plastered in every remaining city after the war. How would it all end? How could it end? I didn’t know, but as long as Julian was with me, I had to believe it would all be okay.
By Madison York3 years ago in Fiction
"Friends"
Sawyer walked into Pro Joe’s once a week during his work day. Being the Executive Editor at Sun & Moon Publications, he has the free will to take time out of the office. Pro Joe’s is his favorite café on the outskirts of the city. It’s old, built fifty years ago and still thriving.
By Madison York6 years ago in Humans
The Wrong Funeral
Phillipe’s is a hotspot in Los Angeles. Hipsters fill the room for a good sandwich but complain about how there are no vegan options in a restaurant known for roast beef sandwiches. At least that’s what happens in today’s time. When I was younger it was our hotspot. Grandpa David's favorite joint. I can still smell the hay that covers the concrete floor, I can still see the crowds of people and taste the freshly cut roast beef on a homemade French roll. Phillipe’s also makes their own spicy mustard. The men in my family always get it and dump it on their sandwiches, but if I’m being honest, their mustard is the worst thing I’ve ever tasted. It tastes like mud mixed with mustard seed and cayenne pepper. It completely overtakes the meal and leaves a raunchy taste in your mouth for the rest of the day.
By Madison York6 years ago in Families
Phillipe's
Grandma sits on her couch while Grandpa sits in his pink recliner. We’re hungry for lunch but Grandma likes her couch more than going out so Grandpa takes the 8 of us to Phillipe’s for a sandwich. Not just any sandwich but one with roast beef, melty cheese, and bread baked fresh and dipped in au jus.
By Madison York6 years ago in Poets