Millie Rowley
Stories (9/0)
Beneath the Pear Tree
All of Vienna’s most prominent memories happened by the pear tree in my back garden; her first steps, the first time she climbed to the top of a tree, the first time she fell from a tree, her first kiss was as she lay beneath its branches staring at the stars, it was where she went when her family was too much and she didn’t want to be around them and where her parents would come to find her to resolve the problem.
By Millie Rowley3 years ago in Fiction
The beast below
Every year we visit the same ski resort, it used to be my favourite place in the world, but last time we were there I had become pretty sick of skiing. I stayed behind a lot of the days and hung out in our room and around the resort. After a few days of doing nothing, I got bored so I decided to go for an adventure outside. After years of visiting that place, the only thing we ever did was ski the same slopes and we never got the chance to explore past that. So, I suited up and went outside.
By Millie Rowley3 years ago in Fiction
The Green Beam
It’s been an eternity since I last got behind the wheel, technically I never got my full licence, but I’ve dreamed of driving away from this place for so long I don’t care. My parents got me this car for my 16th birthday, and it’s been sitting on the side of the road outside the ‘Mont Park Asylum’ for the past three months, collecting tickets and dust.
By Millie Rowley3 years ago in Fiction
The Bull
Tim was a small for a twelve-year-old boy, he wasn’t self-conscious about it but the other boys in his year brought it up any time they could. It seemed more important to them than it did to him, and he never understood the big deal. The school bell had just rung, signalling that the day was over, and it was time to go home. Tim’s house was a twenty-minute walk from his school, most kids would complain about this trek but not Tim. The walk home was his favourite part, because on his way back he got to walk by a farm.
By Millie Rowley3 years ago in Fiction
The Curse
It was Antonio and Maria’s first time seeing the celebration known as ‘The Day of the Dead’. Their Mother and Father decided they should take the family to experience the celebration to pay their respects to their Abuela and learn a little more about their culture. Maria knows all about ‘The Day of the Dead’ having learned from her parents from an early age, Antonio however is terrified of anything to do with death. He would run in fear and cry whenever his Mum and Dad tried to explain the celebration. Some would say taking him to see the celebration may be drastic and a little traumatic, but his parents didn’t know how else to educate him.
By Millie Rowley3 years ago in Fiction
The Delivery Boy
I can’t mess this up, I really need this job and I’m already onto my last warning. I walk through the back alley and knock on my boss’ door to pick up my first delivery of the day. I can already tell he has had a tough day by how fast he opens the door. My boss is a scary guy on a good day, but on a bad day, you don’t want to get on his bad side.
By Millie Rowley3 years ago in Fiction
The Wedding Cake
Sally was in the back of her bakery, adding the finishing touches to her second last order of the week when she heard the doors bell jingle. Her next client wasn’t supposed to be there until 5pm to pick up their anniversary cake, but luckily for her she was already done. She called out to them that she would be there in a moment, and she placed the cake in its box. Sally walked into the front of the shop and saw someone she hadn’t seen in almost three years. She was standing at the counter, an invitation in one hand and a tissue in the other, eyes red with tears. Before Sally could even express her shock at what she was looking at, the woman burst into tears.
By Millie Rowley3 years ago in Fiction
The Dare
I’m standing here, the new kid in town, I have to do it. I’m gazing at the knocker on the door of a run-down old barn, which seems to get bigger and bigger as I get smaller and smaller. I know what you’re thinking, but I just don’t want to knock it. It’s not because the curling vines look like they have infested and consumed the barn, or that the discoloured white paint peels from its host like leprosy, the place is just plain creepy. This feeling is accentuated by the accompanying odour of decay and moth balls.
By Millie Rowley3 years ago in Fiction
Symbol of Love
Today’s excavation hadn’t really come of much, which wasn’t a surprise since Nam had already combed through this primeval 20th century surface home twice before. However, she insisted on looking it over one last time. There was something about this place that kept bringing her back to look again. All that could be heard in the shell of a house was the rattle of a backpack heavier than Nam, and the sound floorboards creaking with her every step like ice, threatening to crack and pull her below.
By Millie Rowley3 years ago in Fiction