Tiffany Mercer
Bio
Just your basic, garden-variety fiction dweeb. :-)
Stories (19/0)
Caffeinated Clouds
Crepuscular croissant crafters carefully clear cluttered countertops, circumnavigating crowded carts carrying culinary comforts, clutching cloud-like, caffeinated cupfuls— commonly called “cappuccinos”— cultivating calm cleanliness, countering calculated chaos.
By Tiffany Mercerabout a year ago in Poets
Not Much of a Dragon
It wasn’t much of a forest, but it had often been said that I wasn’t much of a dragon. The barb had lost its cutting edge over the centuries as the others disappeared one by one: fallen to knights or vice or mere dumb luck, while I watched the tides of nature and time in their ebb and flow from my unobtrusive— or, if we’re being unkind, ineffectual— vantage.
By Tiffany Mercerabout a year ago in Fiction
Elephant in the Room
I was a really lucky kid. Every evening, my dad would settle down on the couch between my younger sister and I-- both of us clutching a sippy-cup of warm milk-- and read us a bedtime story. We had an impressive collection, thanks to a bountifully stocked, local, used bookstore. We were also privileged to attend children's night at the public library every week, where a friendly librarian entranced an entire crowd of youngsters with a story followed by a craft project, and returned home with two borrowed books apiece. My parents didn't give us the world; by inspiring a love of reading from a young age, they gave us worlds.
By Tiffany Mercer3 years ago in Families
Lock It
I don’t know why I reclaimed the locket. It wasn’t exactly a family heirloom— I’d traded a handful of arcade tickets for it when I was in the 4th or 5th grade, and swapped a scratchy hemp cord for the cheap chain after it turned my neck green. Frankly, I’d forgotten it existed until the dented metal heart resurfaced as I rummaged through the boxes stashed in the hollowed-out wall of my stepfather’s basement. Nevertheless, I impulsively stuffed it into my backpack.
By Tiffany Mercer3 years ago in Fiction