Vivian Crane
Bio
When I was little my brother dragged me to a writing class. I hated writting and reading when I was a kid becuase I am dislexic. But I won't let that stop me from the love of the story.
Stories (2/0)
Go ahead and lie
It became very clear that Roran couldn’t stand Hanny. And that Hanny took great delight in getting Roran all riled up. There seemed to be nothing that nothing could stand about Hanny. The way that he laid sprawled in the sun with those soft and tender gray eyes, comfortable in his own skin and fur as he gnawed on a bone. He would snap and spit at Hanny anytime he acted the least amount dogish. But what could you expect from a dogman?
By Vivian Crane3 years ago in Fiction
What Mattered in the End
It was lunchtime when she snapped, slapping the notebook out of her therapist's outstretched hand. It landed at an awkward angle on the floor, kinking it’s pages. Hot and fast angry tears poured down her face. It was so frustrating. She opened her mouth, shut it, opened it willing any single sound to come out, just one, only one, anything! But nothing. She wanted to scream at him, he was supposed to help her. Fix her. It’d been months now. But nothing, no progress had been made. But this stupid psychological trauma stopped anything from coming out. She just wanted to talk again. This had cost her everything, her job, her friends who had stopped bothering to read her notes or learn ASL. These people, all these doctors and therapists were professionals they were supposed to fix her. This is bullshit! They should be able to fix her. Help her. She just wanted to talk again.
By Vivian Crane3 years ago in Humans
