Michael Wheat
Bio
Star underachiever and connoisseur of day old coffee. One of Mother Nature's many lovers; that beautiful, old trollop.
Stories (8/0)
The Cat's Lady
The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. The window was large and streaked with grime on the exterior; the glass looked very thick. Beyond the window was lush and green—like a jungle—although Katie could not see much beyond the thick vegetation. She had seen stealthy movement in those green recesses before, shadows moving within shadows, though whatever lurked there unseen, chose to remain so. Aside from the tangle outside of his window, she had only seen the jungles of Earth in books. Also its mountains, deserts, oceans, cities…and the creatures that had inhabited those places, including humans. Her kind had dominated the earth—before The Demise. He had told her that humankind was the cause of its own downfall. They had chosen greed and gluttony over a harmonious existence with the natural world. Eventually nature had retaliated.
By Michael Wheatabout a year ago in Fiction
Sheila
Mother Nature was in a giving mood today. Sunny. Mid-seventies. Just breezy enough to mess up your hair. If you weren’t outside on a day like today, then you were stuck at work, stuck in jail, or dead. I sat on the cabin stoop, pondering nothing, when Butch came prancing across the dooryard to show off his prize. It was a small, black journal or diary. I took hold of it and yanked back and forth, side to side, his head followed suit and a whiny growl suggested that he had only wanted to show me his find, not give up possession of it.
By Michael Wheat3 years ago in Horror
