Amanda Frazier
Bio
An aspiring author living in Connecticut, she is currently working on her first novel and enjoying as much poetry as she has time for.
Stories (7)
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The table was grimy, covered in years of spilled coffee and cigarette ash, the hand-made doilies my stepmother had laid out making the edges between clean and filth stand out garishly. It was late, but summer in Norway means that there was light coming into the windows even at half-past two in the morning. Across from me was a chain-smoking man with my nose and dark hair, slack faced and glazed over with either fatigue or nicotine; it didn't seem possible to tell which. My stepmother hovered just outside the door to the area that served as dining, living, and occasional guest room in the tiny European house and my half-brother who was just a few months past seven years old was asleep upstairs. As my father smoked one cigarette after another, sometimes lighting the next before the first was fully finished, I tried to find my words, to put what had happened into the air between us.
By Amanda Frazier8 years ago in Psyche
Salt, Starlight, and Chlorine
She lies in the hammock, legs dangling, toes barely brushing the slightly damp grass; her arms behind her head and her long hair undone and hanging behind her to dry. She has been swimming all day, and she feels deliciously tired and happy. The light from the stars and the brightness of the moon are reflected off the water from the pool, leaving beautiful little ripples of light all over everything.
By Amanda Frazier8 years ago in Humans
