Melanie warman
Stories (8/0)
Bought and Paid For
For most of my life, I felt like a mere shadow in my father's world. It was as if my existence was nothing more than an inconvenience to him. His love language was gift-giving, and while I never went without material possessions, I lacked the one thing that truly mattered - his attention.
By Melanie warman 11 months ago in Men
The Last Rider
The sun is beaming in through a crack in the old red velvet drapes. They are glazed with dust and smell of leather-bound books and my grandfather’s cologne. As I begin to flutter my eyes to meet the beam of light, I become in tune with the loud clunking sounds and people talking all around me. “She’s waking up!” I hear the voice of a small child announcing my coming too. As I begin to look around the room, I take notice of the sea of familiar faces that surround me. I can’t quite fully and accurately determine how it is I know all these faces, all these people. For just another few minutes I stay in a dazed state as I gather my thoughts, where am I?
By Melanie warman 2 years ago in Fiction