Nicole Stairs
Bio
My sister says I'm haunted. Guess that's why they say "Write what you know". If I have to deal with it, dear reader, then so do you. I throw in the occasional sweet story, just for a palette cleanser...enjoy!
Stories (33/0)
Never Really Gone
His back is bent and aches from exhaustion. Tiny beads of perspiration trickle down along his spine as he stretches his large frame to stand erect. Counting down slowly backwards from 30, pacing his breathing, quieting his mind, his eyes drift close as he pushes out a deep quivering breath. His nostrils are filled with the pungent smell of salt and copper; he can feel the droplets cascade down his face as his tongue pushes from behind his cracked lips.
By Nicole Stairs2 years ago in Fiction
- Runner-Up in From Across the Room Challenge
A Child's Wish
Elizabeth had a tendency to be a strong willed child. The elders would sit around the fireplaces late at night and complain that she was more trouble than she was worth. The men were concerned she would bring a pox upon their families, whereas the women of the small town worried she would never find a man to force her to settle down.
By Nicole Stairs3 years ago in Fiction
Click
She must've fallen asleep and lost control, veering her rental car into the deep snowy ditch before going airborne, skidding over a thankfully frozen pond and into the dense forest just beyond. She lost track of how many times she rolled, her brain slamming into her skull back and forth until she was no longer conscious.
By Nicole Stairs3 years ago in Fiction
At the Top of the Maid's Staircase
Staying home from school was a luxury, and one I was not given too often. But on this occasion I would say I was quite ill, near death for sure. My mother wasn’t too happy when she pulled the thermometer from my mouth, the fever tipping just over 101 degrees. I’d certainly not be allowed to attend school. As she stood there over me waving the thermometer and grimacing with displeasure, she made a decision. Not wanting to miss out on her daily lunch mimosas and gossip fest with her friends to stay home with a feverish child, my mother decided that 11 years old would be the perfect time for me to learn how to fend for myself, plague and all.
By Nicole Stairs3 years ago in Horror
Never Trust An Angry Cheerleader
I just have to say, people in Texas can be quite horrible to outsiders. Especially someone like me who has never heard of FFA or Ag class. All I know is that my father uprooted us halfway through my high school career and dumped our family in the middle of the podunkiest town I’d ever seen.
By Nicole Stairs3 years ago in Fiction
You Are Beautiful
The heat stroke Emlyn had suffered caused more damage than she originally thought. The symptoms were mild at first: confusion, headache, flushed skin. She thought it was just a mild sunburn, but her skin was feverish and she fluctuated between sweating and feeling too dry. Maybe she'd trained too hard, pushed herself too hard.
By Nicole Stairs3 years ago in Humans
Old, New, Borrowed, and Blue
The cloth of the duvet ruffles with the fingers of her child, playfully walking up to the edge of the bed and resting his hands on his mother’s face. She doesn’t open her eyes, not just yet, she waits until the little boy cups her cheek and whispers her name. She smiles, eyes still closed, her grin spreading wider and wider as she hears the impatience in the child’s voice, urging her to look at him.
By Nicole Stairs3 years ago in Fiction