Meg Sloane
Bio
Stories (16/0)
Witness
If walls could talk, what would they share with you? Would they tell tales filled with joy, love, and beauty - or would they be darkened by death and disaster? Perhaps a little of everything, or even nothing at all. I can’t speak for everyone, but - by some miracle, or perhaps a curse, I still can’t understand - I can speak for myself. I am the internal eastern wall on the main floor of a private home in Nevada. Humans always say they wish they could be a fly on the wall in certain situations. Just imagine if you were the wall itself. You’d hear and see so much more. Here are two of my stories.
By Meg Sloaneabout a year ago in Fiction
What the Beach Gave Me
“Now boarding group C! Repeat - Group C may now board!” The voice - belonging to a female in her 30’s, disinterested and unamused by the bustling airport - sounded over the loudspeaker. If you could call it a loudspeaker, Nia could barely hear her. Between the crying children beside her and their bickering parents, she could barely hear herself think.
By Meg Sloaneabout a year ago in Fiction
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