Michelle Gibson
Bio
In polite society, we call our obsessions hobbies. – Stephen King
Writing has been my lifelong hobby. Writing on Vocal feels like an opportunity to get feedback from like-minded souls. Constructive criticism is how we grow. Please comment.
Stories (6/0)
Memory Trials
CyberFame. Everyone wants to earn CyberFame. And sometimes it happens. She did it, Cyrus thought as he reached up to touch his outdated laptop screen. As he did so, he noticed that he was not the only one enchanted by Jazz's movements. Behind him some of the tunnel crowd watched the replays of Jazz’s switchback headstand wheelie from over his shoulder. This stunt had been the one that had landed her a sponsor--ArcCorp, the most coveted sponsor on the web--just days following the Arcadia stunt. It was the dream. Now, Jazz had no problems getting facetime for her stunt work. She was everywhere. Without a sponsor, fame might come instantly, but it would also be fleeting and soon forgotten. People only cared about what was thrown in front of them, and that came with money. Now, because of the Arcadia Hall stunt, Jazz had it all.
By Michelle Gibsonabout a year ago in Futurism
The Old Barn
I tore through the thicket, barely registering the young saplings and bramble shrubs that scraped mercilessly at my bare arms and legs. Every tree looked the same. I could see no markers indicating that I was even headed in the right direction, but I couldn’t stop. The taunts and jeers of the others gave me speed as I tried desperately not to panic. With every frantic pump of my legs, my heart beat faster. Its cadence became so loud, it finally drowned out the voices trailing from behind.
By Michelle Gibsonabout a year ago in Fiction
Stones
It was almost time. Every evening the air bit more crisply. On these nights, Terramedus enjoyed nothing more than stretching her indigo wings in the autumn sky. Soon, the heaviness of the long days would leave completely and the dragon would be free once again to dominate the dark skies unmolested--a welcome change from the entrapment she had felt over the last few moons. When days were long, Terramedus felt confined to her cave and only emerged from her lair to take quick flights. She longed for the cold, endless nights now promised by the coming of the new season. A season when the two-legs did not venture far from their hearths.
By Michelle Gibsonabout a year ago in Fiction
Name Day
Name Day Name Day. Just two tiny little words. Two tiny, unremarkable and unobtrusive words. Rather insignificant on their own. However, in Eros United these words were heavy, prophetic beacons of the fate every individual must face before being granted full citizenship. Name Day was the day individual faces became individuals. The day a person stopped being called a number and adopted a forename. The day one officially dedicated themselves to a vocation. To a purpose. To Eros United. The day Youth0403.8d, like everyone else in her cohort, would be presented with a small, heart-shaped locket.
By Michelle Gibson3 years ago in Fiction
