A. W. Knowland
Bio
I live in my imagination.
I write so you can visit.
Stories (8)
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Darkness Before Midnight
Arlington, VA. 1997. Clank is the sound of metal, often heard and goes unnoticed. We assume they're old pipes, an old home with older issues, or perhaps it's construction, someone fixing something somewhere. But "Clank" in the stillness of the night and "Clank" again several times harder. Suddenly, it becomes disconcerting.
By A. W. Knowland5 months ago in Fiction
Frederic's Fairy
A father once asked his son, "When does a story stop being a story—when it was once truth or when it becomes real?" In the town of Autumn, fall is a season most cherished. When the trees become barren and the leaves paint the ground, a special kind of celebration begins. Neighbors flock together, sharing their bounties of fruits, vegetables, and grains. As all the months of hard work come to fruition, reaping what was sowed for harvest.
By A. W. Knowland4 years ago in Fiction
CYCLE IV
On a warm sunny day, a twenty-seven-year-old Lebanese woman reads beneath a pear tree. Her attention sways, hearing sounds of laughter from a distance. She glances to the side, observing the merriment of children. As she returns to her reading, her book slips from her lap. A handsome, tall man with long dark hair and kind eyes retrieves it for her.
By A. W. Knowland4 years ago in Fiction
CYCLE III
When the CYCLE first began, our most precious resource vanished. With society unable to reproduce, the remaining children became more vulnerable than ever. Treated as commodities, they were bought and sold. The enormous desire to become a parent was prevalent, sought by the most affluent of social classes.
By A. W. Knowland4 years ago in Fiction
CYCLE II
In a white lab secluded from the outside world, a teenage African-American girl spends her days alone. Countless hours without a moment's rest, her days seamlessly overlap. The quiet stillness in the air would have anyone mad, but not her as she is determined—driven, like someone with the weight of the world on their shoulders. Her name tag reads, "Dr. Julia Torquinn."
By A. W. Knowland4 years ago in Fiction
CYCLE
Humanity lost the ability of childbearing, a gift granted to all life on this planet. Cursed with eternal reincarnation, we roam the world in different shells. Those who died returned, emerging from random bodies of water. Always the age of ten, and always as someone else. With memories still intact, we continue to live life with infinite second chances.
By A. W. Knowland5 years ago in Fiction
