Paige Castor
Joined July 2021
0 stories
Bio
"The first draft of anything is shit." - Ernest Hemingway
Stories (5/0)
When Death Waited
Death stood on the curb, he wore a long black coat that went down to his thighs with a bowler hat. I keep on expecting him to pull out a cigarette. No one paid him any attention. He faced away from me, watching the sun rise over the horizon. Red staining the sky and clouds, slowly morphing to orange and then gold.
By Paige Castor 2 years ago in Fiction
Still Here
I’m lying six feet under, my body rotting around me, caged by the earth and coffin, but soon I’ll be free. I can move my fingers and toes a little bit, the very atoms in the air passing through me. I couldn’t do that yesterday in the cold freezer at the morgue.
By Paige Castor 2 years ago in Confessions