"Ann Garza"
Bio
My walls are high, exterior is rough, but the little girl inside me is a hopeless romantic.
Stories (5)
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Confidence
In every mirror, I sought a phantom, pursuing an illusion that had been escaping me for what felt like an eternity. I had mistakenly labeled this part of myself as 'dull', 'untalented', and 'delusional', yet I yearned for this missing piece to return and make me whole.
By "Ann Garza"2 months ago in Writers
Ixchel
In the ethereal tapestry of existence, under the watchful gaze of Ixchel’s guiding light under my mother wove the threads that brought me forth into this vibrant, chaotic world. You gifted me to my mother and before you left, you said, when it is time for me to return, you will be confused, but as you look to the uj (moon) in the sky, you will be comforted.
By "Ann Garza"2 months ago in Poets
Secret Haven
Secret Haven Written by Ann Garza Climbing the stairs to what will be my office/library/escape from reality room, I feel each step getting heavier. I was supposed to have help from my family and friends, but at the last minute, they all had “this came up last minute” things, or as I like to say, more important to them things. The house was still new to me, and I had promised not to work on any repairs in the room without at least one person with me as I tend to be accident prone. But, since they all bailed on me, I decided to go back on my word and head up to that room with a vacuum and cleaning supplies. Once I was certain I had everything needed to at least tidy the room up some, I sat on the floor in the middle of the room so I could decide on new paint colors and if I wanted to keep the laminate flooring or replace it with something else. Something more comfortable like thick, soft and plush carpet to the match the new wall colors. I had a few ideas in mind, but I knew I needed to clean the room and the 2 walk-in closets to get a better idea.
By "Ann Garza"2 months ago in Fiction
A story of Brujeria, shovels and a baby chick
It was a Thursday. A normal Thursday for me. I went to work and came home like always. It wasn’t too hot yet in our Central Texas town, so comfy pajamas and a soft blanket were calling me. My husband was going to be at work for a few more hours and my 3 teenagers were out with friends. A rare evening where no one was there to bug me about nonsense or ask about dinner. In other words, a perfect evening for an overworked mom. I looked at my watch and it said 6:15pm. The perfect time to start my perfect evening. With my pajamas on I walked to the kitchen and had mentally decided on a pint of buttered pecan ice cream and a show to binge watch until I passed out. I was about to silence my phone when my older sister’s name popped up on the screen. I was going to let it roll to voicemail, but she rarely calls me, and I felt happy to hear from her, so I answered. The second she said my name and not my nickname, the hair on my arms stood up and I felt nervous. She asked if I had anything super important planned for the evening. I looked at my ice cream and was about to say yes when guilt set in and I said no. She thanked the heavens with relief and then proceeded to tell me I needed to pick her up in my SUV. Then she tells me that I can’t ask any questions until I pick her up and that I need to wear darks jeans, boots and a hoodie. Oh, and bring some bottled water, plastic bags and a couple of shovels and gloves. Time stood still for me because I always told her I was her ride or die. She was calling to collect, and I don’t know why, but I said OK. I never thought I would have to make good on it. As my mind came back from my mental pause, the truth finally registered at the forefront of my mind: Oh. Crap. She finally snapped and it is going down!
By "Ann Garza"6 months ago in Fiction
Dolls With Blinking Eyes
A cold dread settled over me the moment I knew a daughter was coming. Not because of the life itself, but because of the inevitable intrusion of them. Not Barbies, which were plastic and safe, but the others. The lifelike ones. The blinkers. The talkers. A visceral revulsion ran through my veins, an inexplicable, deep-seated terror I couldn't articulate, only obey.
By "Ann Garza"6 months ago in Horror
