The Short Story

But of all the things I have ever known
and all of the places that I have been shown,
there is nothing here like you, my love,
that makes it feel like home.
—  Beatrice Marie
I changed my name so you wouldn't be able to look me up.

When I was four my dad forgot me at the mall. He said it was because I was a wanderer, always leaving his side undetected, to look at something shiny. He wasn’t the observant type, though; my brother was always the one having to point out my dad had lost thirty pounds. Dad said they looked for me, but I still doubt it. He managed to drive home, make lunch, and have a nap before he realised there was only one kid to wake up.

I didn’t miss them at first. I followed a nice family around for a little bit - they bought me a hotdog. I sat beside a girl who gave me a pack of stickers. I was offered a cat from a strange older man, but I declined. I was taught to not take things from strangers, and that seemed like a good place to draw the line.

I started to think something was off when the crowds started to thin out, and I had lapped the mall twice. The sun didn’t seem to be hanging as high as the clouds anymore, and either the air conditioning had been turned up, or the temperature had dropped.

Dad said they went to security first. That security lectured him for being a bad parent. That a parent who loved their kids would have noticed a missing child before the five hour mark. Dad said he laughed in his face. I probably would have as well.

Dad found me on a bench outside, but I didn’t notice him at first. The sun was just beginning to kiss the tree tops. The sky was changing from the blue in my brothers eyes, to the oranges we had at home, and I wondered if anyone could have the sun change their eyes like that. Maybe that’s how people fall in love - in between the changing of day to night.

At least that’s how I fell in love with the sky.

syncdical asked:

Hello! Not sure if you can answer this, but I'll ask anyways. A lot of my short stories contain plot-lines where Person A and Person B are complete strangers, and A has to end up offering that B can stay at their place for the plot to continue. And I know that that doesn't happen often irl, so I was wondering if you had any tips/pointers on how to write scenes where a stranger asks another stranger if they want to stay at their house while it still sounding legit. (I hope this makes sense.)

Let’s start with “a lot of my short stories …” It sounds like what you’re really trying to do is write That One Story but you keep revisiting this plot line because you’re trying to hit your creative sweet spot. This is PERFECTLY OK and is how many writers learn. So, not trying to change your stories or your efforts on this particular scenario, but if this is the case, you do want to be aware of it.

Next, the most obvious set up is that, while Person A and person B are complete strangers to each other, they aren’t to Person C. I have IRL friends who, if they asked me to take in one of their friends I didn’t know, I would (that is, if I had room, which I do not). I have other IRL friends I adore who, if they asked the same thing and I had a freakin’ mansion, I would make up some airtight excuse to get out of it. Might even take a vacation to avoid it. So … work in a relationship with a Person C.

Also, do they have to be in the same dwelling? Can it be adjacent apartments or dorm rooms? Person A lives in Apartment 1. Person C lives in Apartment 2 and is looking for a house sitter. Or is on vacation and gave you the keys and you know how to contact them and ask if Person B can stay there and you lie and say Yeah, I know Person B really well, they’re great? Or Person C is never really around much and doesn’t mind being the local Air BnB.

The point here is that often times when you can’t make a plot work, it’s because your relationships aren’t fully mapped out, either. Even in a short story, you can add another person somehow to make things work. 

HTH, and hope you find the story you need to tell! 

I’ll be better

He was humiliated. Thrown into the back of the class for being different. His classmates don’t understand how unique he is. How special he is. They all look at his flaws.

“One day, I’ll be better.” He constantly writes in his notebook.

Five minute challenge

I was tagged to do this at some point but I can’t find the tag (sorry!) Basically I have to write a five minute story and post it without fixing anything. I’ll just write it in here to keep it easy. I apologize for the spelling mistakes XD As for the rules, I am perpetually shy and therefore tag EVERYONE!!! Oo Nah, just kidding. If you want to do it do it… I actually am excessively shy and can’t tag, too shy for even that. 

Now on to the mess…


Unlocked doors 
(I cheated and added a title after I finished my five minutes… Sorry :P)

“Whoa! (Y/N) why the hell are you naked?!?” Dean almost knocked over everything in the general area of the sink as he opened the door to find you towel drying your body in the small motel bathroom. His ears getting redder by the minute as he appeared to be somehow frozen in place where he was from a mix of embarrassment and shock. His eyes as wide as a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck.

“I don’t know about you Dean, but I prefer showering naked. I’m not so rushed I have to combine laundry day with showering,” You quipped back, raising an eyebrow at the man who was still somehow standing in the doorway. Apparently the older hunter was unable to remember how to leave a room as you finally managed to fasten the towel around you, cursing the size of the tiny piece of fabric under your breath.

The lock to the motel bathroom was broken, probably had been for years by the time you guys checked in, so you’d taken a massive chance showering when the boys were out looking for clues. But damn, you needed a shower. It was inhumane to keep a girl from the luxuries of hot water and soap.

Wringing the last of the water out of your hair you looked over at the still frozen man. Wondering when he’d notice what he was doing and turn to leave and let you finish up your shower routine. But he didn’t seem ready to go anywhere.

Dean’s eyes were travelling the length of your legs and up to where the sky blue towel was now securely resting and covering at least part of you from him. Somehow he seemed to have let go of enough of his embarrassment to blatantly stare at you. Not that you minded, not really… His gaze warmed you up more than the hot shower had, but there was no way you would ever admit to that.

“I guess I’ll get out of your hair. You seem to need a cold shower,” You chuckled as you grabbed your clothes and brushed past him. Silently planning on leaving the bathroom door unlocked next time you knew it was just the two of you around in the bunker.

A flower blooms tonight,
One of heartsick love and ancient might.
A light has dawned tonight,
Freeing every doubt and worldly fright.
I’ve sent it’s petals to the heartsick air-
Across the Earth, it will find you there.
—  A.P. (2.8.16)
Be great for you.

A lot of people say they want to be great because or for their mother. They talk of how hard she worked or of her struggles and the such and how those things serve as fuel to the soul. But I speak of none of those things nor do I wish to be great for her. Instead, for myself. My mother never loved me. 


A match, struck in the dark.
A match, only one left, hope there’s a spark.
With each step, the puddles echo in this cave.
With each step, there is less hope to save.

The air, smells of creatures’ skin.
The air, it is growing incredibly thin.
The Canary, will croak before the end
The Canary, is my closest friend.

A drop, from the top, darkens it all.
A drop, could be ahead, could be a fall.
So long, the cavern does twist and run.
So long, in this cavern this life is done.