Rachael MacDonald
Bio
An American who now calls Canada home!
I've always been a reader first and a writer second---So I need your help!
Please leave a comment, a criticism, or a helpful hint. I'd like to have as much honest feedback as possible! Thank you!
Stories (44/0)
A Winter's Claiming
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Cotton candy clouds I called them when I was little. It was my favorite time of day. When the blue suns faded, and the red moon rose a washing the valley in violet majesty. Snuggled in our barns loft amongst the hay and wheat, I watched the winter dragons migrate north toward the Carpathian mountains where they would breed during the summer months only to return upon the first snowfall. Their golden scales glistening goodbye in the dying light of day.
By Rachael MacDonald22 days ago in Fiction
The Sun and the Moon
“Well, It finally happened. I finally lost my mind.” Camille shook her head as if she could shake the psychosis right out. She imagined loose keys jangling around a glass bowl, and if she could only tip her head the perfect way, the delusion key would slip out of her ear in sweet release.
By Rachael MacDonald23 days ago in Fiction
Art
When DINOSAURS die, And technology RISES, Humans DEMAND art.
By Rachael MacDonaldabout a month ago in Poets
House
“If walls could talk,” Jessica whispered into the cavernous room. Her eyes glanced over ghostlike furniture lost in thought. The room itself was centuries old. Built in the late 1500’s by a Lord long forgotten. The room was scattered with furniture mixing regency and medieval collections in swaths of printed fabrics and gilded chairs. Most were currently covered by large white sheets, but where several of the cloths slipped, dust motes danced on faded silks in the early morning sunlight.
By Rachael MacDonaldabout a month ago in Fiction
Paradise Fruits
A blind man sat alone on a crowded beach. The hot sun shone down on his balding scalp as the salty breeze tickled his bare skin. He dug his toes into the granular sand, wiggling them deeper into the cooler, damper part. He could hear beachgoers splash into rough waves, and somewhere close by an acoustic guitar played a soothing melody.
By Rachael MacDonald2 months ago in Fiction
