stacyt
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I have 13 stories published in
4 collections on the site.
My stories have been read 12788 times
and 3 of my stories have been cherry picked.
Stacy Taylor
My stories
I Am a Flower
When I spoke, they turned away in silence. When I called to them, they furrowed their brows and shook their heads. When I tried to listen, they spoke a different language. The people told me I was unintelligible. They told me I was garbled like grand gigs on gouged records, discordant like distressed dulcimers, barking like Babel-towered breeds. I was dumb.
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- 696 reads
A Veil of Smoke in Two Parts
I stood under an awning pressed to the side of the observatory. Rain fell around me, lazy, soft. The boardwalk illusion glowed under a light-tight sky. Cigarette lighter flicked”a burst of warmth inside the chill. I inhaled. Leaned my head against dirty wood and watched smoke drift, my eyes straight ahead.
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- 747 reads
A Simple Sunshiny Day
She often predicted her own future--perhaps they were dreams, perhaps they were fanciful fascinations. She'd shudder into awareness, hanging breathless in the Kafkaesque place between waking and sleeping, when lightless shadows flitted across the patterns the venetian blinds had lain throughout the room like wraiths in stealth coming (at last) to take her away.
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- 734 reads
Elegant Elora
Those ghosts are plastered in gray matter, trapped in sinew and tissue: Yet, somehow, they are freer than you or I or most any other creature. To be a ghost of Elora's perception is to have been kissed with instant, rapturous light. It leaves one cold when that moment becomes the next.
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- 808 reads
Concrete Court
Nonsense noises fall from his lips like bits of pain-poetry and scatter to the ground bouncing away to blend with street sounds: the rhythmic click-clack of hooker heels, the static hiss of blinking neon, the creaking pendulum sway of nocturnal movement. His moans, though stirring, do not arouse pity, nor do they offer solace.
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- 793 reads