Michael Crone
Bio
Fiction, Poetry, and everything in between. Hints of life and love. The world we share comes to life within the words of the page. Thank you for taking the time to read. Enjoy <3
Stories (20/0)
How did we get Here?
The belfry's window, located above the library, offered one of the best views in all of town. The tower overlooked the giant forest to the east. Days of peaceful solitude, filled with the sound of rustling leaves. A bird's song, echoed in the distance. A light whistle of wind as it travels through tiny cracks in the old stone. Catching the first rays of yellow and gold highlighting the mountains was one of the wonders this tiny town could offer. It was a special sanctuary.
By Michael Crone3 months ago in Earth
Enigma
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Agatha had been waiting for quite some time to sit down and finish her story. She had procrastinated, as most writers tend to do, long enough. She needed inspiration, so she decided to write in the creepiest place she could find. The light sound of tree branches tapping on the roof, the whistle of the wind, and the slight flicker of the candle flame added to the eeriness. The atmosphere was unsettling to say the least, yet she could only reread her opening line.
By Michael Crone9 months ago in Horror
Parting Wisdom
“I think this is it.” Carean mumbles to no one. He pulls the backpack off his shoulder and begins to rummage around inside. He panics for a moment. “Did I forget it?” A sense of relief as his hand touches the journal. He opens to the bookmarked page where an old tree, twisted and beautiful, is drawn; A large X at its base, near a root emerging from the dirt. Carean searches for the spot. Once found, he removes the small garden shovel from his backpack and plunges it into the earth. After some time… Clink! His shovel strikes something metal.
By Michael Crone9 months ago in Fiction
I Just Need a Shower
I awake from a beautiful dream. The usual. Hurried footsteps clacking on pavement. I peek my head out from underneath my shell of warmth and watch as the people rush past. Most of them ignore me. A few of them make eye contact but barely linger long. I know a few of them wish they could help but life drags them onward. I wonder if any of them think of me throughout their day? Maybe they feel guilty for not dropping a coin. Maybe they think about how they could have saved the sandwich they just tossed in the trash. After their brief moment of empathy, they move on and forget.
By Michael Crone9 months ago in Fiction
Atreya in the Valley of Dragons
Chapter 1 I.
By Michael Crone10 months ago in Fiction
That Place Where the Ocean Meets the Sky
Dear Diary, You know how a story hits you on a different level? You hear it off the cuff, barely paying attention, but it somehow lodges itself into your subconscious and pops up years later. That's how you know it was meant to be heard by you.
By Michael Crone2 years ago in Humans
There's Always Time for Wine
Elijah Elijah sits nervously waiting for his date to arrive. He scans the menu, glancing towards the door often. He checks his watch. He tries to relax his arms away from his body, noticing that his armpits are beginning to sweat. He loosens the tie around his neck and grabs his water, glancing toward the door once again. Just as he is thinking he's been stood up, a woman's voice startles him from behind.
By Michael Crone2 years ago in Humans
Short Nightmares
I start to whistle a tune as I lock the shop behind me. "Woah. Don't do that." "What? Lock the shop?" "No dumbass." My coworker says to me. "Whistle at night." The expression on my face lets him know I think he is crazy before I burst into laughter.
By Michael Crone2 years ago in Horror
