Michael Canady
Bio
Hello Everyone! My name is Michael and I am starting this new journey of storytelling and hope that you will take it with me! If you like what you read, share it with others! Thank you!
Stories (4/0)
A Gay Point Of View
I would like to start by saying that everything that you're about to read is simply what I have experienced in the past and present as someone a part of the LGBTQ+ community. What I'm writing, is not a reflection on the entire community, for I understand that everyone’s experience (as a queer person) is different and unique in its own way. I am writing merely about the common themes found in my life and other queer people’s lives that I have seen and been around. This is to help and connect with people who have felt isolated and have felt abandoned since the day that they were born because of their sexuality. As a queer person, one might often feel misplaced and unwanted in this world full of billions upon billions of people. We often have to walk through life with unnecessary burdens and often question our existence and purpose on a daily basis even when we’re in a “happy” state of mind. At least I do, which is why I am choosing to write about these experiences and thoughts of mine. I am in need of someone to truly see and understand me just like you the reader. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this! I hope you feel seen, heard, and understood. And for those of you who may not be a part of the community, please don’t take anything said here as an insult. Choose to listen and be open to change. If after reading this you realize that there are things that you need to change, choose it! Choose to be a better supporter and friend. Thank you to everyone who took their time to read this. Peace and love!
By Michael Canady2 years ago in Pride
Andrea And The Christmas Owl
Christmas had always been such an enchanting and significant time for the Nickerson family. The snow, Christmas carols, and the smell of pine and cinnamon always seemed to put a smile on their faces and joy in their hearts. Mr. and Mrs. Nickerson, Bill and Margie, were very festive people and were known by their neighbors as Mr. and Mrs. Claus for how joyful and jubilant they were during the holidays. The neighborhood that Bill and Margie settled in was full of mostly elderly people who didn’t get out as much. It was always a delight to see the Nickerson’s extravagant Christmas lights or to get a batch of Margie’s famous Christmas cookies that she would bake every year for the people in the community. Margie and Bill Nickerson treated every holiday season like it would be their last and that’s what everyone cherished about them. Every year, Mr. Nickerson was in charge of finding the Christmas tree for the house, which was never that hard of a task due to the locale of which their home was built. In the countryside of Vermont, The Nickerson's were surrounded by a plethora of nice, sturdy, trees to pick from. Mr. Nickerson would go out, with his tree ax in tow, and find the biggest and most opulent tree he could find. To Andrea, the only child of the family, the trees were as wide as buss and as tall as her school’s flagpole. She could never manage to figure out how her dad carried such big trees into the house and barely broke a sweat. The Christmas season seemed to make Mr. Nickerson and Superman look alike in her eyes. Margie, on the other hand, managed everything on the inside of their home. Andrea would go to sleep one night and wake up the next day immersed in a land of colorful Christmas lights and tinsel. The sweet smell of sugar cookies and hot chocolate would take over the house most nights and would oftentimes remain until later the next day. The beauty of Mrs. Nickerson is that she never treated two Christmases the same. To her, each Christmas deserved its own memories and its own uniqueness. She held strong to this particular belief when it was just her and Bill together, but when Andrea was born, she latched onto the idea even more and became more serious about the Christmas season. Every year since the birth of Andrea, Margie’s mind would race with ideas of how to make every part of Christmas memorable to her precious baby girl.
By Michael Canady2 years ago in Fiction
