Meredith Bell
Bio
Hopeful Polyglot | Stagnant Artist | Buoyant Traveler | Perpetually Silly
I dabble in words that hopefully evoke some kinda feeling in you.
Stories (7/0)
They Whispered of Mangoes
"Celeste..." Yes, I hear you. Where are you? The alabaster sand is hot, like the moment you pull out laundry from the dryer—that snuggling, soothing warmth. The sand is so soft that it feels like silk against my soles. Free of grit and cigarette butts—pristine.
By Meredith Bell3 years ago in Fiction
Twitterpated
A flash of gray whizzed by. This was it—she had arrived. Sid was so nervous that he teetered, almost losing his footing. He took a breath, steadied himself, and looked up. She wasn't his typical type and almost twice his size, but he had agreed to this blind date to get himself out there, dive into the dating pool. It was summer, after all, and he still didn't have a girlfriend—he was desperate to couple up. But she was beautiful with large stunning eyes staring back at him. A sunflower seed dangled from her beak.
By Meredith Bell3 years ago in Fiction
First Date at the Last Blockbuster
The dull and corroded satellite lurched toward the Earth pod, its rusted solar panel screeching and scratching across the side. Petra didn't even notice. Besides, the Federation built these Earth pods to be indestructible. Space junk was too common an occurrence to give it even a second's notice. Nothing interesting ever happened.
By Meredith Bell3 years ago in Fiction
Dormancy
Ice clinked the side of the glass. A brief singe tickled her throat before the refreshing gin bathed her tongue. She sighed. A strong cocktail for a sobering task. She sat on the bare hardwood floor in her apartment, surveying the room stuffed with forgotten parts of her life.
By Meredith Bell3 years ago in Fiction
