Rebecca

Joined July 2019

0 stories

Bio

Taking a deep dive into the human experience through fiction and commentary. Always in search of a feel-good inspirational sports movie.

Stories (7/0)

Oh Ceiling Fan
The cyclical movements lay bare Your friendly blades that only cut air. Gentle movements on the stage Of the ceiling whose dull haze
By Rebecca9 months ago in Poets
A Life Reset
Frank Miller was working late for the fourth time that week. The hum of his hard drive sang in the late afternoon silence. It was Friday, everyone else was trying to get out of the office or never came in at all. Just worked from home. But not Frank Miller, he comes in. He feels like he can get more accomplished at the office, just like in the old days.
By Rebeccaabout a year ago in Fiction
Where the Cicadas Sing
Loretta Kane took her cap off and fanned her face as she waited to check into her room. She looked around the small lobby for any signs of life but all that could be heard was the gentle humming of the ceiling fan.
By Rebecca3 years ago in Fiction
Cold Snap
Jeremy and I had been friends since childhood. After my younger brother Eric died when I was eleven, I spent more time with Jeremy than I did with my mom and daddy. My mother, comatose, stayed in her bedroom and my father spent his evening hours in the barn after work fixing machinery or anything that would keep him away from my brother’s empty spot at the dinner table.
By Rebecca3 years ago in Fiction
The Education of a Christian Woman
The faster things need to get done, the more expensive they become, When planning for life of which only the Savior has won.
By Rebecca3 years ago in Poets
Nice Day. For A. White Wedding.
Since she didn’t know how to respond, Rachel sat quietly as the bus continued down its path. She knew what most girls thought about marriage, but she never met anyone this predisposed to it at such a young age. If propriety permitted, she would lean across the aisle and shake this girl into a better frame of mind.
By Rebecca3 years ago in Fiction
Heat
Water sprayed my face as the sprinkler came my way before rotating back. I wiped my face with my free hand and scooted towards the other end of the wooden bench, surprised that the thing could reach this far across the concrete driveway. Looking at it, I now see why more weeds are growing in between the cracks in the pavement than flowers in the newly raised flower beds leading to the front door. It wasn’t turned on before I got here, but the day grew warm and the sky was as blue as J.P.’s eyes on this perfect summer day.
By Rebecca3 years ago in Families

Rebecca

Bio

Stories .css-19zxm0z-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-default-mute);}(7/0)

Oh Ceiling Fan

A Life Reset

Where the Cicadas Sing

Cold Snap

The Education of a Christian Woman

Nice Day. For A. White Wedding.

Heat

Stories (7/0)