Michelle Mead

Joined June 2021

0 stories

Bio

I love to write stories so I keep doing it, whether it brings me fame and fortune or not. (Spoiler alert: it doesn’t, but that's okay).

I have a blog, too.

michellemead.wordpress.com

Stories (17/0)

Pest Control
“Hey, you!” Zach suddenly realised it was a lone living cockroach standing up on his hind legs on the carpet. He stared at it in disbelief.
By Michelle Mead 14 days ago in Fiction
Mountain
The climb requires will, but when you reach the summit the world is afoot.
By Michelle Mead 4 months ago in Poets
Mercury
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. I can only guess how many screams have been voided into silence, unheard, around Delta 17. And I wonder, more with every passing moment, if my voice will be swallowed into that number.
By Michelle Mead 7 months ago in Fiction
Express Menu
TALBOT A. felt the whirring hum even before she opened her eyes. She did not know, at that point, that she should not to be able to feel the movement, regardless of how fast the train was moving. Or that this was her very first sign that things here were broken.
By Michelle Mead 8 months ago in Horror
The 'X'
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. I dreaded being anywhere near that place nowadays. I would never have gone there by choice.
By Michelle Mead 9 months ago in Fiction
The Time Before Dragons
“There weren’t always dragons in the valley.” This was the last thing my sister Brenna had said to me before she disappeared. Before everything I knew about the world started to unravel.
By Michelle Mead 10 months ago in Fiction
The Silencer
“You’re not a protected species, are you?” Casey asked the ghostly white figure in the darkness. The Barn Owl, perched atop the chair at the other end of her kitchen dining table, peered back at her through keen black pearls.
By Michelle Mead about a year ago in Fiction
Lucky Ducks
“Let’s get an ice cream!” said Jill brightly, in a desperate attempt to distract her children’s attention away from the pond.
By Michelle Mead about a year ago in Fiction
The Death Drop
I was dead when they pulled me from the water, according to all witnesses. For more than fifteen minutes I had seemed to disappear without a trace.
By Michelle Mead about a year ago in Fiction
Pigeon Lady
“It’s not right.” Nan said. The homeless ‘pigeon lady’ was across the park, communing with her feathery kin. She had fished out a half eaten packet of salt and vinegar crisps from the rubbish bin, and was breaking up the pieces, then sprinkling them like fairy dust out to her frenzied flock.
By Michelle Mead about a year ago in Fiction
Pear Shaped
“He cut her tree down out of spite.” declared Phoebe. Even as the words came out of her mouth, she could imagine her father dismissing her accusation as teenage drama. The way he lately dismissed so much of what she had to say.
By Michelle Mead 2 years ago in Fiction
Trauma Clean Part Three
“How much of a coincidence does something have to be before you see it’s not a coincidence?” These were my father’s frustrated words to me every time we argued about his irrational beliefs.
By Michelle Mead 2 years ago in Fiction

Michelle Mead

Bio

Stories .css-19zxm0z-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-default-mute);}(17/0)

Pest Control

Mountain

Mercury

Express Menu

The 'X'

The Time Before Dragons

The Silencer

Lucky Ducks

The Death Drop

Pigeon Lady

Pear Shaped

Trauma Clean Part Three

Stories (17/0)