:: What’s New ::
Travel Journal
Hi!
I’m Lou, an aspiring author with a passion for art, nature and history
Contact me:
OR leave a comment in The Forum
– Essays –
Why do I write?
I create. Ever since I was little, my closest companions have been my stories, transporting me to another world whether I wanted them to or not. I identify with Victor Hugo when he said, “A writer is a world trapped inside a person.” Growing up, the world within felt so big and consuming that I thought I might burst. I was transported from phonics class to a mountain overlooking a forest, with the sun rising over a castle on the horizon. I was sitting atop a mast, shouting orders to a crew of pirates as a rival ship came into view. I was in control, and I was special…continue
AI in Literature
Read…
Odysseus vs Aeneas
Coming soon!
Nature in Media
Read…
::Line of the Day::
“The shortest poem is a name”—Anne Michaels
:: Short Stories ::
-Death’s Name-
The word mankind fears most. A shadow that can not be outrun, as inescapable as nightfall, and as unpredictable as the weather. He wears many skins, ranging from the head of a jackal, to feathery bones, from a dark helm, to copper eyes. In some cultures, he even takes the form of a woman—but fickle as he may be, I fear it doesn’t suit him. On the day I died, the guise I expected was that of the Reaper: dark hood and menacing scythe. Instead, I meant an angel. Continue reading…
-Fate’s Trick-
It’s all wrong. The sun is shining painfully bright and there isn’t a cloud in sight. I lift a hand to shade stormy eyes, my gaze sliding across the blossoming park. The air smells of flowers and morning dew, curling my lips in disdain. A light breeze caresses my face, laughing. The wind is laughing at me, whistling through the air, rustling the leaves of the great oak overhead. It's giggling like a child, mocking me.
Continue reading…
-Nature’s Dream-
Nature dreams of World Peace. She sleeps with her head tucked under her arms, unconsciously protecting her long braids of flowers and vines. Her breathing is slow, so slow that you have to press your ear to the cold moss to hear it. The moss tickles your ear. You pull away, watching Nature dream with a smile on your face. Continue reading…
-Time’s Lover-
“I knew love once,” Time says to me, his stony clock face void of emotion. There is an atmosphere about him that sends a shiver down my spine. He looks no older than me, but I feel a child in his presence. When I look into those ancient eyes, I know nothing. I have never seen him before, yet when he showed up at my door, less than an hour ago, I knew exactly who he was. Now he sits in a wicker chair, looking severely out of place, in my disorganized little shop. Continue reading…
-War’s Gift-
A forge, empty if not for the assembly of munitions, resounded with the clang of steel against steel. The blacksmith beat his hammer against a red-hot sword, once, twice, and thrice, until it was as smooth as a blade of grass—but far deadlier. Sweat dripped down his bushy brow and into his eyes, prompting a deep grunt of annoyance. Pausing, he used the back of a sooty hand to dry his face. The day had been long, and the pitcher of chilled ale was calling to him, but rest would have to wait. He had work ahead of him still. Continue reading…
– Poetry –
Luna’s Petition
A poem that combines my love of personification with my affection for the moon
Coming Soon!
I am a caught up in editing at the moment
:: The Forum ::
“Here, you can share your thoughts on recent stories you have read, comment on your favorite characters and plot points, and even share your own ideas for storylines. The floor is yours!”
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Lou.Summers 