News for the ‘ORIGINAL WORK’ Category

short story: i should be crying now

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Posted: July 2nd, 2012
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Short Story: Yellow Nikes

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Posted: May 15th, 2012
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short story: session’s over

it’s about this guy that goes to a shrink, he doesn’t think he needs it

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Posted: May 14th, 2012
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short story: I WORK

i wrote a short story in the spur of the moment called I WORK

download it here! and tell me what you think by leaving comments, attacking me on twitter (@emmaherself) leaving me an ask on tumblr or emailing me! looking forward to your words!

Posted: May 11th, 2012
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Short story: Ordinary

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word count: 721

Posted: February 6th, 2012
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Short Story: Mr. Glass

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about 5745 words

Posted: January 31st, 2012
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like everything, it needs a beginning

A letter came in early spring, a letter not longer than a page and half. Thick, rich, crème-colored paper that were heavy on the heart, nothing too good ever came in a package like that. Raf skimmed the contents of the letter and pulled on his worn-out leather jacket. A thick scarf and he left his apartment for a lawyer’s office that he had never heard of.
We are sorry about your loss, they muttered as he looked at his watch.

Your grandfather left you a part of his estate, they continued. It was incredibly hot in the office. He glanced around at the suits, they perfectly matched the state of the office in their tones of grey and charcoal.

We just need you to …. Their voices trailed off in his mind. He was sure he was supposed to feel something about this but to their hearts content he signed and signed, left his mark next to bright red arrows with bold capped-locked words, SIGN HERE, the small piece of plastic instructed. And sign he did.

They shook hands, as it was customary, apparently. Raf didn’t know if it was, it was his first time. He made no eye contact and left the office as quickly as he came in. He received an envelope with a few things; a hand written letter and a set of keys. He stepped out into the street and pulled his jacket closer around him, did it just get colder?

He held the yellow manila envelope with two fingers, barely acknowledging their existence and hurried back to his warm apartment.
He opened the large heavy wooden door and tossed the keys into a glass bowl by the door. In a similar fashion, he opened a drawer

and tossed the envelope and the contents inside. He didn’t want to see it again.

<em>I started writing! horray! I don’t really like this beginning but at least i am starting…there are a lot of kinks to fix but horray it has started. it feels good to start, it feels really good.</em>

Posted: November 18th, 2011
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The princely James

I’m sorry, I didn’t even read a book this week, which means I’ll read and write up two next week, I didn’t feel like it. So to make it up to you, though I don’t know if anyone actually looks forward to these…I wrote this story, I thought it up last night when I went to bed, and I wrote it up now, man I didn’t really want to make it the way it turned out, but oh wells.

The boy with the princely aura.

There was a boy named James.

He has blonde curly hair, curls so fine that when he stands in the middle of the playground, he glows as if he he is an angel, he glows as if there is a crown on his head.
James is not a prince, his mother is not the queen, his dad is not the king.
James is not very tall for his age, this seems to be more obvious when he slouches, and he slouches often. When he walks or talks, he bends forward, head slightly tilted forward, and looks almost old, not older, but old.
When James walks by his classmates, they stand in line beside him, solemnly quiet, it was not an easy task to get such young people to be quiet, but for James, it resulted whether he had wanted it or not. His classmates didn’t know why they went quiet, they were neither freightened nor shocked, but they stood still in a completely straight line, waiting for James to pass.
James’ teacher is very nice, she brushes his curls out of his face whenever he stops by to talk. His teacher suggests for James to talk more often, to smile more often. But when James does speak, three grooves form on his forehead, they looks like wrinkles, it makes James look old again. His teacher would only laugh and pet his fine curly hair, like gold thread she would say, like gold thread, she would say.
James is one to have many worries, a very princely trait, he worries-a-many, like the royals might.
James sits by himself at lunch time, his lunch box is purple, royal purple, he thought to himself, completely convinced.
Maybe I really am a prince, James thought to himself one day. He didn’t know what this aura meant, he knew that people used that word when they described him sometimes, princely aura they would say. It seemed to be a positive trait, but it left him lonely and sad. James didn’t want to be lonely or sad.
One day, James took a shortcut after school, he didn’t know where he ended up, but he wasn’t scared. Princes are not scared, he told himself, he held his imaginary sword close to him and ventured forward. There were trees, tall grass, and small creatures lurking near by, though James couldn’t see them. He had come to the conclusion that this small forest that he had stumbled upon, is indeed, magical.
So it came no surprise to him, when a rabbit came up to greet him. And no less, James greeted him in a princely manner.
“James, welcome.” The rabbit said.
“How do you do.” James replied, he shifted his two feet closer together, his toes pointed in different directions.
“You look sad, James.” The rabbit said.
“I am sad.” James replied, and without meaning to, he glanced off into the distance, James wasn’t sure why but he did this often, and often was troublesome.
“Why are you sad, James?” The rabbit asked.
“I don’t know why I am sad, perhaps it is because I don’t have any friends, perhaps it is not in my nature to have friends.” James replied, he returned his full gaze back to the rabbit, to his surprise, the one rabbit has become three, the other two rabbits stood at an angle behind the first one, they bowed but did not say anything.
“It is nice to have friends.” The second rabbit chimed in. “We can be your friends.”
“That’s very kind of you.” James replied.
James decided to sit down on the flat rockbed beside the large willow tree, the small animals began to gather around him, they looked at him intently and full of curiosity that James has never seen in an animal before, this only confirmed his notion of this forest being magical.
The sun began to set, but this did not bother the animals, they continue to gaze whistfully up at James, who seemed like a towering giant beside them.
“Am I a prince?” James asked after a long while.
“No, you’re not a prince.” A chipmunk replied immediately. This caught James by surprise.
“I assumed I was a prince, perhaps why people avoided me, people don’t seem to like princes.” James drooped his head down low, he placed his small hands on his knees, his plaid school uniform shorts were past his knees, they stuck out at an angle.
“Everyone likes you James, you just have to believe it.” A raccoon popped up from behind a bush.
“It is hard to believe when no one speaks to me.” James added, his eyes still glued on the ground.
“Perhaps you should speak first, to someone, someone that you like.” A rabbit replied, this time, a brown one.
“Is there anyone that you like?” A squirrel chimed in, “Anyone at all?”
James looked around his small kingdom with thoughtful gaze, even though the animals told him that he is not a prince, he’d like to believe that this is his kingdom. His mind wandered back to the playground, everyone’s eyes avoided him as he walked by, they must dislike him, else they wouldn’t do so.
But before James could reply, the animals started to chant his name, their voices faded in and out as many voices slowly shifted into one soft girlish cry.
“James, wake up!” A soft pink hand began to shake at him.
James opened his eyes slowly, his hand is scratched, and his knee is bleeding. A brown haired girl was sitting beside him, her eyes were filled with worry, and tears, James had liked to believe.
“James.” The girl smiled and wrapped her arms around his frail shoulders.
“Sarah…” James said. Sarah is a girl at his school, she has shoulder length brown hair and deep blue eyes, like the ocean, James thought, but that metaphor was much too often used.
“You fell down the hill, I wanted to get someone to help you, but I didn’t want to leave you alone.” Sarah said.
James brushed the dirt off of his shorts and stood up, Sarah followed suit. He looked around the small forest, what had once seemed overwhelming and lush, suddenly became pale in comparison, but very much realistic.
“Am I a prince?” James asked again.
“Only because I am a princess.” Sarah replied.

Posted: April 2nd, 2011
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