The Invisible Writer
Bio
"Poetry is what happens when nothing else can"
Charles Bukowski
Stories (106/0)
The burning house
If walls could talk, they would tell countless tales. Stories of every kind would spin from the brick or stone or wood of their surface. Sonnets of love, tragedies of heartbreak, epics of war, fairy tales of ancient times, fables, legends, tall tales, and parables would all be told. If walls could talk, you would listen to every word with delight. They would transport you into the past, into glimpses of lives lived, moments made, journeys taken.
By The Invisible Writerabout a year ago in Horror
The Conversation
~A landing and a piece of reluctant news~ Night sky stretched out in a blanket of stars above the French Caribbean island. Lights marking a small private runway blinked to life. Above the sand and water a Gulfstream G800 circled the small airfield. The air traffic controller in the tower came to life granting permission for the private jet to land. A line of black SUV's pulled out of one of the T-hangers that lined both sides of the airfields only taxiway.
By The Invisible Writerabout a year ago in Fiction
Agoraphobe
The sound was everywhere. There wasn't a room in the house she'd been able to escape from it in. Huddled, now on the floor. She pressed the small of her back against the painted sheetrock of the wall behind her. The sound, the maddening buzzing that was driving her mad felt like it was resonating in every neuron inside her mind. Her thoughts were broken, disjointed. Only the growing sensation of fear came through clear. Her arms stretched around her folded legs. She pressed her forehead against her jeans. The sound was an invading army of alien ships. Her fingers ran through her hair before lacing together behind her head. This isn't happening, she thought desperately.
By The Invisible Writerabout a year ago in Fiction