QueenElf
Primary tabs
My stories
Origami.
This is another piece I have deleted and re-written. I thought it was one of my better poems but couldn't take the advice offered at the time. I hope this is better than the orginal. Origami. ^^^^^^^^^^^^
- Read more about Origami.
- Log in to post comments
- 1111 reads
Nyctophobia.
This is a complete re-write of an old story. I cut out a lot if the dead wood, so to speak. Thanks to everyone who suggested various alterations. Gordon had been afraid of the dark all of his life. Actually it was more a fear of the absence of light, but the doctor's had insisted it was the same thing. He'd been to see many over the years, psychiatrists, psychotherapists, hypnotists, even trying the alternate therapies such as acupuncture and herbalists. As a young child, his parents were called on to answer any questions that may give some insight into his condition. No, he had never been locked in a dark cupboard, hadn't got himself trapped in a cave or more bizarrely, had never seen a corpse by candlelight. By the age of ten, he'd been hooked up to various machines that tested for any abnormalities in the brain, but nothing ever come of it. He was given a prescription by a bored consultant who told his parents he was 'highly strung.'
- Read more about Nyctophobia.
- Log in to post comments
- 880 reads
Signed, Sealed and Delivered.
Gabriel tipped his glasses forward to the end of his nose and peered with agitation at the report he held in front of him. Zeke's usual untidy scrawl was giving him a headache. Besides that he was fed up of spending a century on his current duty, surely, by now, he deserved a break? Anything else would do, he couldn't aspire to being Peter's right hand man but even a spell with the fledgling Cherubs would do.
- Read more about Signed, Sealed and Delivered.
- Log in to post comments
- 956 reads
Greasy Joe.
A sort of prose/ poem. Greasy Joe. ^^^^^^^^^^^^ Kids can be cruel; it's a fact of life. But we never meant it Not to go so far Not to string you up Like the chickens. Greasy Joe, we called you that
- Read more about Greasy Joe.
- Log in to post comments
- 976 reads
Shoes.
Tip-tap, tippety-tap, my heels strike the wooden floor, bounce off the walls of the tall corridors and echo in my ears. (I imagine thousands of dwarves delving in the deep of Moira, each hammer stroke painstakingly working on a tiny piece of carving) such is my imagination. The familiar feel of a panic attack starts in my booming heart and the corridor starts to recede into darkness, a long tunnel with no beginning and no end. I'm rooted to the spot, unable to move. I'm hyperventilating, I know it, and stretching out a hand to steady myself I'm falling again¦
- Read more about Shoes.
- Log in to post comments
- 982 reads