Apr 16

A Tree's Memories

The darkness is warm and heavy, comforting almost.
I can feel the sunlight upon my tough shell, so unlike how it felt to drift down, spinning and absolutely uncaring for the world, before settling here at my mothers feet, upon the hearty, green moss.
The tough but gentle hands that intricately selected me off the ground carefully peel back my outer coat, leaving me bare against the open air. Then the hands gingerly close around me, again encasing me in blackness.
When the fingers unfurl once again, I am only free for a second before they dump me into a tiny hole in the soil, and cover me with it.
It was there that I took root, there that I was watered and nurtured.
And it was there that I grew.
Dec 22

Swing Summer

We go, that afternoon, to the tallest swings in town. We have to, because we are the tallest kids. Not as tall as our parents, yet, but our legs are long enough that when we go to the smaller swingset, we scrape them on the ground. I meet my best friend on the corner in front of my house and we walk the rest of the way together. The sidewalk is hot with the summer sun, so hot that I say I can feel it through the soles of my shoes. She says that's silly. She's called Alice. She's not older than me, but she wants to be.

We meet Sam and Isaac at the corner of the playground. They got there earlier but waited for us, leaning against the fence and talking about Isaac's new bicycle. Sam has dark, curly hair that he keeps up in a hat. He has a little brother but didn't bring him today. "Where's Teddy?" I ask him.
"Home. He's having a birthday party?"
"How old is he turning?" asks Alice.
Isaac snorts. "Imagine being so excited about turning ten."
Nov 09
fiction 3 comments challenge: Club

This guy asked me to join his club

"Mate, this guy just asked me yesterday if I wanted to join his club."

"Woah, what'd ya say?"

"Well obviously I asked him what it was about, you know?"

"Don't tell me it was some kinda cult or somethin' freaky like that."

"Geez no, he said it was a book club."

"Oh yeah? Sounds chill."

"And then I asked him if you could come, cause I thought you would love to go."

"Aww that's sweet."

"But then this jerk is like "No way your friend's got issues" 





"Haha oml, thanks for that"

"No problem mate, anyone that's got beef with you has got beef with me"
Oct 19

The Jump

The Jump
My feet crunched the snow as my thick boots led me toward the hill. It was mid-winter, a warmer day than most, and the tramping was making my forehead sweat. My friend Clementine was ahead of me, my short legs and puffy snowsuit weighing me down-and slowing me down. Finally, I reached the top of the hill. I sat down, not caring if my butt got wet or not. Mindlessly, my mittens picked up a ball of snow and packed it evenly. This was the best packing snow of the winter. It was the perfect mixture of wet and fluffy, a combination rare at least to Vermont. Judson, another friend, was thinking the same thing.
Dec 05

Ten Days of Winter, 1892

Editor's note: In the 11+ years of this site, I have shared only a couple of things on the belief that this is your site, not mine. But I am sharking this because, well, becaue I thought you might like to read/listen to it and, also, to see that some stories take a long time to develop. I'd love some feedback -- this is your chance! :) 

I wrote this piece of fiction for Winter Tales 2017 and it was presented by Vermont Stage in its shows Dec. 6-10, 2017 at FlynnSpace. (It also was going to be presented at a similar winter story show in East Montpelier on Dec. 16.)

Audio download:
Feb 13

The House

NOTE: This is part of the Sprout1 Challenge. This piece was written by an anonymous writer during Vermont Writes Day, and we loved how it started us thinking. How about you? If you would like to extend this story, please click the SPROUT button below and continue it. If you find lots of sprouts, and we hope you will over time, and you like where someone else has taken this, sprout that post. Have fun. And we thank whoever posted this on vermontwritesday.org on Friday, Feb. 10, 2017. (We have made a few edits, by the way.)
Feb 13

The Pendant

NOTE: This is part of the Sprout1 Challenge. This piece was written by an anonymous writer during Vermont Writes Day, and we loved how it started us thinking. How about you? If you would like to extend this story, please click the SPROUT button below and continue it. If you find lots of sprouts, and we hope you will over time, and you like where someone else has taken this, sprout that post. Have fun. And we thank whoever posted this on vermontwritesday.org on Friday, Feb. 10, 2017. (We have made a few edits, by the way.)

The old iron bell jangles as I step into the familiar shop. I wave to the owner, a kindly old gentleman, who smiles at me as he always does and says hello. He seems to appreciate my visits, even though I don't often buy anything. 

I make my way through a maze of old bookshelves and chairs, paintings, vases and other miscellaneous objects. I know almost all of it by memory and can tell whenever the store has sold something. 
Jun 15

Crimes of the lonely

She once stepped too close to the sun
Now she breathes fire into the ocean
And the tempest dances
She once danced in the stars 
But her feet became cut 
And bled from her prances.
She once enhaled the rain
Letting it cool her words
But sometimes water can’t put out a fire
She once loved to much
Pretended she was free
And was burned by desire.
She once spread her wings
And wished to fly
She once had a friend 
Who loved her
But she made her hold up her sky.
Jun 14

A Song, an Awakening

Illion was ready. 
There was no reason why he wouldn't be - it was just that monthly event that he'd been training for since he was young. No biggie, nothing special.
He laid down on his bed, staring at the ceiling above him. The window was open, bringing in fresh air that he'd come to miss in only a few minutes. He sighed, closing his eyes as he breathed it in.
"Ill?" A voice, softly calling him, shook him somewhat. He hadn't realized he'd been about to fall asleep.
"Yes, Estada?" He sat up, grabbing a cup from his bedside table and sipping from it. Oils.
His little sister entered the room, closing the door behind her as she did. It shut with a soft click. "Are you nervous, Ill?"
"Not at all." Despite his reassurance, he fidgetted as he always did. "How are your studies?"
Estada's hair was a blond mess, but her eyes were focused. "They're going alright, but I really dislike history. I just don't get why any of it happened."
Jun 11

letters to a better world

nov 18 1927

hello my name is Elizabeth, I just turned thrirteen today and got this beautiful diary. I live in vermont with my four younger brothers and two younger sisters. my family owns a farm near mt snow. my family has lived there for a very long time. one day I might run the place. but most likely it will be my younger brother's. because it would not be proper for a young lady of my position to run a farm by herself... or so my parents say. sometimes I hear news of the war over in Europe, of all the people being prosecuted and killed. I wish that people wouldn't hurt each other. but oh! did you hear about the Holland Tunnel! just last sunday, I opened, from New York across to New Jersey! well, I hope to write to you again soon! goodbye for now! love Elizabeth.

jul 4 1964
Jun 11

"This summer I discovered..."


Prompt: "This summer I discovered..."

This summer I discovered a little bird. It was small, only a chick, but with feathers as orange as flames, and a beak as black as coal. I picked it up, their small red eyes blinking at me in confusion as it chirped quietly. I stroked it's [feathers] as I cradled it in my arms, whispering words of reassurance it couldn't understand. I searched the area as thoroughly as I could, trying to find the strange bird's nest, to no avail. I finally sighed in defeat and headed home, the bird sleeping in my arms.
Jun 10
Rocky_O's picture


Write about meeting someone for the first time and knowing that you will be best friends, worst enemies, lovers, etc.
Jun 10


I travel to my destination, overlooking where I stand. I see it so much that it feels not important or beautiful when it is. I realize this as I trudge to the bus stop. I pause and stare down at my feet planted on the cool sidewalk. I wonder, how many times have these black sneakers stood in this exact place? I lift my head up and the breeze cools my skin and whips my hair into my face. It’s spring, and the flower petals are beginning to bloom. I bend down and touch a budding tulip, feeling it’s smoothness on my fingers. It’s as if I can smell the pollen urging to burst out. I can hear spring yelling to be let in. It’s almost May, and it’s time.
Jun 07
fiction 0 comments challenge: Pal

True Companion

"Pen, please," I asked and I lifted the pen between my fingers as if it was moving on its own.
But in my head, my friend named Natalie lifted the pen and passed it to me. 
The sky was a bright blue and the treehouse I was sitting in was bright yellow with sun raining in through the windows.
I sat on a teal beanbag across from Natalie, who was sitting on a green one.
"Natalie, do you remember when you were a journal. I always had to write all of my hardships, problems, and joys between your covers." I say thinking about the days.
"Yes, I do. Very vaguely. But I was so tired and every time you wrote, 'I wish you were alive, I could use another friend.' I felt a longing to be your true companion." says Natalie.
Jun 07
mythicalquill's picture


Her skin is soil and stone and ancient fossil, blanketed in the greenery of meadows and valleys that form her island shape. Palm trees sprout in her cupped hands, rivers of fingers stretching away with muddy, rushing haste. Vegetation thrives as she lies against the ocean floor, seaweed hair floating languidly around her cragged head. A range of mountains curves across her spine. One, the tallest, sits like a majestic jewel inlaid at her chest, rising stolidly atop her beating heart as she stretches towards the horizon.

She is older than eons. She has seen travelers come and go, nothing more than blips in her eyes. She does not mind as they drink the water from her lakes and eat the fruits that sprout amidst her rich green flora; building unobtrusive huts, then shacks, then structures more complex. They often plant new trees, replenishing her surface with growth—as she provides for them, so they return the favor.
Jun 06

Can We Leave Now?

We were about to leave,
but there was a bit of a problem.

"Come on," I said. "We have to go!"
We were sitting in the car. The engine running.
The trunk packed. 
"Just one second," my mom calls as she jumps out, "I'll be right back.
"Sure," I think. "Of course!"
I pick up my book and start to read. This could take awhile. 
We weren't that far away from New York City. Only like  . . . 5 1/2 hours?
But my watch says 6:30 a.m and we have to be there by 11:30.
That's 5 hours away! Only 5 hours away!
We'll never make it!
By this time my book is in my bag and I am jumping out of the car.
I am running into the house so frustrated.
"What will I say to mom!" I think, "What will I say?"
I turn into the living room. Not there.
I run into the kitchen. Not there.
I check the basement. Not there.
I call, "Mom!" No answer.
I jog up the stairs, more annoyed than ever. 
Jun 03

Talking With an Alien

2200 A.D

So you see, there’s this thing called Earth.

Is it a food?

What? No, no, it’s a planet. In the Milky Way. It’s where I live. 

That is hundreds of galaxies away. Why are you out here?

Why am I out here? I don’t know, to pick flowers? No, you idiot, I’m here to explore. 

Exploration has already been completed in this galaxy. What is so bad about your Earth?

Because Earth is already explored. 

Interesting. I have never heard of this Earth before. What is this planet like?

You really want to know what Earth is like? 

Was my question unclear? I can repeat if it is required. What is this---

Yeah, yeah, I heard you. It’s just---Earth is so boring...Well, actually…

You have stopped talking in the middle of your sentence. Did you fall into slumber?

No, I was just thinking about Earth. 
May 31
tashapea's picture

The Best at Losing

I’m a winner. Some might even say that I’m the best. I win at everything and I always give my all. I get higher grades than my friends, I get chosen to attend leadership conferences, I do what I can to help my soccer team win - and we usually do. I win the Kahoots and Quizlets at school, I win games online - hell, I even win most of my arguments.

It’s great. It’s awesome. It’s fun. But it’s not what I want.

I want to win at life.
May 30

My Night

I gathered all the patience I had set aside, for moments like these and waited for the sun to descend, bringing forth its dark hypnotizing color. The transition to the bright silver of the beautiful, and dangerous moon of the dusk, from the orange and pink hues that glazed my skin a parmesan tone. The darkness holds so many secrets, just waiting to be discovered. The darkness holds so much decadence, just waiting to be acknowledged. I'll discover those secrets and acknowledge the horrid decadence, gladly. This was the thrill I lived for. I awaited the night, and it awaited me.
May 29
Nattilie Sanso's picture

The Sun Always Seems to Set at Inconvenient Times

The summer of 2018 was one I will always cherish. Almost every night, my friend, Alex, and I would sneak out and go to the lake. We lived pretty close to one another and the lake was an equal distance from the two houses. We would meet on the dock and splash our feet and then eventually jump in the cool water. We went in the daytime as well, but there was something about going there at night that made it seem so magical. After dark, the moonlight would shine and bounce off the water’s surface. Dipping your toe in the water created a ripple that seemed to go on forever. It was unaffected by other swimmers.

    A year ago, Alex and I went to the lake after a Fourth of July party we attended. We were stuffed full from all the food they had at the party, so we just sat on the dock, not wanting to swim and get a cramp.

    “You gotta wait 20 minutes after eating before you can swim,” Alex said.