Nicola mcfarlane
Bio
I love reading, writing, also reviewing. I'm really looking forward to being part of this community. I'm a published author, my pen name N.L.McFarlane. I love playing with writing styles and I'm looking forward to sharing my work with you.
Stories (9/0)
Frozen Locks
Did you know that there was a pass, not just a pass between mountains…A pass between worlds? A pass that connects our world to the world of Myths and Legends, darkness, and Death. I bet you also didn’t know that it has a giant frozen pond connecting it all together, and that it’s begun to melt. This means that the seal is breaking, that death is coming for us all. Not everyone can see this pass, only the chosen ones, only the ones with sight, the ones whose eyes are swirling white mists, whose minds are connected to the world around them from beneath the ground to above the skies. They don’t care for anyone or anything in this world, just that the two worlds don’t clash. That myth doesn’t become reality, become the end.
By Nicola mcfarlane 3 years ago in Fiction
The Green Lights
I loved my mothers’ stories. When we are laying side by side in the den, the blizzards howling and treacherous around us, the snow creating drifts and burying any sign of life above ground so that when we emerge it would be a blank canvas, I feel like we are the only ones inhabiting the land, our private, safe home.
By Nicola mcfarlane 3 years ago in Fiction
The Raging Bull
The room was dim and stagnant, dust motes floated by, swirling in the air as the sunlight sliced through the middle of the old room where the curtains had worn and frayed, not quite meeting together. It smelled musty and damp, the old fabric armchair was threadbare across its arms, the feet repaired with odd blocks of wood and wonky nails. A faded throw had been placed over the seat to cover the body shaped imprint from years of use and the patchwork squares and mismatched thread used to fix the holes.
By Nicola mcfarlane 3 years ago in Fiction
The Last of the Summer Sun
Summer starts on the day the flower opens; the enchanted Marigold, left to our kingdom the day the Queen passed, it was her favourite of all the flowers in the gardens. She was such a warm and loving person. The sun shone for her every day of the year, we had no other seasons than summer, no rain unless she called upon it for our crops, no snow and ice, no thunder, no gales. Flowers bloomed before her feet, the grass grew thick and softly around her gardens like her own personal, green carpet and the birds rejoiced every single morning and continued to sing their sweet songs until dusk. Life was good; food was bountiful, the animals were bold and carefree, living among us without fear. It was calm and peaceful. Every day was the greatest here. We loved it; we were the most respected, most loved kingdom this side of the hemisphere. We did not refuse trade, even if they could not afford it, the Queen would let payments slide in exchange for a smile, or a flower. We never hunted or killed, we farmed what we needed and took nothing more, we used up everything we farmed so that nothing was wasted, we did not starve or suffer, and we made sure anyone who needed it would receive help in any way we could… we didn’t ever hate or scream until our lungs were fit to burst. We never feared the creatures that lurked, never feared the dark or the rains, the cold. We never wanted more. Until now.
By Nicola mcfarlane 3 years ago in Fiction
Diving Deep
The wake of the boat left a lone white trail behind us; a solid, singular, spreading marker showing our way back temporarily, until the water resettled. This was it for me, there was no going back now, the boat just bounced along the waves, into the seemingly never-ending horizon. This trip was gifted to me from another group of survivors and the scientists who claimed to have helped them to shed their fear like an old skin, letting it slide off back to the depths of their minds, forgotten. I haven’t been able to forget though. I can still remember the day it happened like it was yesterday.
By Nicola mcfarlane 3 years ago in Fiction
The Brown Paper Box
“What’s in the box, what’s in the box, why me, what will happen, oh why won’t you let me go… oh boo hoo…” He mimed rubbing his eyes with a forced, pained expression as he loomed over me, his sharp, angular face just centimetres from mine as he mocks me, his grin growing like the Cheshire cat as he watches me squirm in my seat. I can feel the sweat running from my temple in rivulets as I stare down at the brown paper box on my lap. He is slowly moving to stand behind me, it reminds me of a documentary I watched last week, a predator circling its prey before going in for the kill. I can’t see him, but I can feel him, the foreboding presence that has my stomach in knots, has me hearing everything more acutely from the monotonous ticking of the clock counting down my fate, to the haggard breathing of his accompliss at the door who hasn’t stopped smoking for the entire hour that I’ve been held captive in this room. “All you people care about are the what’s and the why’s… the when’s even, never just the simple things. I placed your finger on the button, I proceeded to tell you to not let go and that you were to just… enjoy the ride. You do not need to know why or when to let go, and what, well the what is the best bit. If you let go, well then, I guess that there will be fireworks in the city tonight, my oh my, what a blast that will be.”
By Nicola mcfarlane 3 years ago in Fiction
Death by Chocolate
Most people seal a deal with a handshake or a signature, but then again, most people don’t sell their souls. I sealed my fate with a slice of cake, it had five layers. I can remember it clearly as though it’s been scorched into my memory, Cake, Chocolate flavoured cream, more cake, a chocolate topping, and a blood red Cherry. A layer for each requirement he needed to ensure; Obedience, Honesty, My Silence, Dedication and Oh yes, the Cherry on top…My Soul. I had to eat every single crumb from that plate and with every bite, I felt a piece of myself slip away, a piece of my humanity being leeched away to leave me in this husk I now call myself.
By Nicola mcfarlane 3 years ago in Fiction
The Old Barn
“Come on Delilah, we’re going to be late!” He looked back to see her holding up her night dress awkwardly as it snagged on all the fauna around them, he chuckled as he sighed jokingly, deliberately loud enough so that she would hear him above her own heavy breathing.
By Nicola mcfarlane 3 years ago in Fiction
The New World
23/4/2050 Dear diary, I write this as my first and last entry. This is my testament as to how the world was destroyed and how we were able to rebuild it. If you are reading this and there is life flourishing once more then you know we are alive, if no one ever reads this then I guess I failed, but here goes…
By Nicola mcfarlane 3 years ago in Fiction
