Michelle Weir
Bio
I'm a mom, I work a lot, and read all the time. I've always wanted to write a book series that I can read to my kids one day, or let them read it. I love to make jewelry and otherwise be creative. Here's to the next chapter of my life.
Stories (8/0)
Becoming a Marine Biologist
Artificial light glimmers on scales as fish dart in the large aquarium tanks all around me. I wave to the few coworkers still here as they get ready to leave. Bags are packed, areas cleaned up as they head to the door mostly en masse. Heading through doors with a sign that reads employees only, I dress in with a wetsuit and grab my cart with supplies. Double checking that all the tests I would need to run are there, I push my cart back through the doors I'd entered. The keyring jangles as I pick them up to lock up the entrance to the aquarium. I grab a cup and climb up the back of one of the tanks to grab some water. Each cup on my cart is labeled for each tank, so I know what water I'm testing for later. I make my circuit, winding through each exhibit. I smile to myself as I watch the different interactions each species has. Some are loners, but my favorites are the schooling fish. The way the light shimmers and shines as a group flits about their home has always enchanted me. Guess that's why I enjoy working in an aquarium.
By Michelle Weirabout a year ago in Fiction
The Box
I slide my key into the lock of my front door. It's been a long day at work. Another unsolved murder in this big city, another column for me to write. I lock the door behind me and head to the kitchen. I pull my notes from my bag, setting them out before I grab a tv dinner to heat up in the microwave. A strange droning noise interrupts me. I stand still and listen. It's right outside my door. I tiptoe back and peek through my peephole as the sound fades away. No one is there so I open the door, picking up the cardboard box that had been left behind. Surprisingly light despite its size, I carry it to my table. I know I didn't order anything and I stayed late at work tonight. I open the box to find a strange photograph of a brunette woman walking down a street. I don't recognize her. It's when I flip over the photo that I grab my phone and dial my contact at the police department.
By Michelle Weirabout a year ago in Fiction
Orb of Gidae
We stayed the night with Dioney. Misuni wanted to stay longer, studying the cave drawings that Dioney had created over the last hundred years or so. She often drew what she saw in her visions. The history of many peoples was found on her walls. So we stayed for another two nights, and Dioney and I grew closer still. She had often fascinated me, and I could tell her visions often burdened her. I visited her until I was fully grown and the wars had started in earnest. By then I was tired of the world and had decided to stay by myself in the forest. I didn't realize how much I had missed until then.
By Michelle Weirabout a year ago in Fiction
Found
I am hundreds of years old. The cedar forest I dwelt in was once young and I can barely recall the filtered sunlight as it warmed the stone entrance of my home. My clan and I lived peacefully with the humans and elves that ran the keep, once a stronghold that was a beacon of peace in the land. But all such things come to an end, and the story I tell is much later in life, after war and strife tore the tower down and the people dispersed to live elsewhere.
By Michelle Weirabout a year ago in Fiction
Shadow of Death
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Shadows stretched long in the moonlight, strange shapes moving between the trees. Footsteps are muffled by the multicolored leaves, almost bare trees shifting in the breeze. Shots half-remembered pierce the silence.
By Michelle Weir2 years ago in Fiction
Awakening the Light
Prologue Lyum Rosecrown, Ruling Queen of the Northern Isles, looks out from her balcony while rubbing her very pregnant belly. This was her second child, and her nerves fluttered with the breeze that gently shifted the curtains behind her. She waited for a sign, wondering if her child would be the one foretold, her firstborn daughter.
By Michelle Weir2 years ago in Fiction
Across the Mountains
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. A long time ago, the Valley had been a part of a large continent, known as No'Paga. One long night, a giant eruption exploded the peace the inhabitants of the Valley had known. Thrusting forth from the surface of Rathe, giant mountains imposed upon the sky where a red moon hung as an ever silent observer.
By Michelle Weir2 years ago in Fiction
