Brandon Boyer
Bio
I’ve always envied those with the natural disposition to create; my wife is this way, an artist, as are my two children. Recently, I’ve decided to try my hand at writing, and try and translate my daydreams into something more tangible.
Stories (10)
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The Hungry Whistle
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The cabin was small, and dilapidated from years of neglect. It was positioned just beyond the tree line, on the edge of the property, where the yard gave way to a thickness of forest that stretched for miles. From the house, it was barely visible. In fact, on this particular night, the sky was a blanket of clouds that created a darkness so thick, that it was near impossible to make out any shapes; everything ran together and blended into one black abyss. This very darkness, however, amplified the flickering light from that candle in the window, and a seemingly innocuous detail, that otherwise might have gone unnoticed by Harper, was as apparent as rain is wet. It caught her eye immediately through her bedroom window. At first, she squeezed her eyes tight , sure that it was nothing more than her imagination, but upon opening them again, the candlelight still danced against the darkness. A shudder washed over her body.
By Brandon Boyer4 years ago in Horror
Hannah
“There weren’t always dragons in the valley.” Hannah looked up at me, her eyes puzzled and challenging. That look caught me; those cola brown eyes, endless with innocence. The kind of look that only a child could have. When you tell them something absurd, and they are fully aware of just how outlandish the statement is, but they have that certain look; still waiting the reaffirmation that you’re only joking. Of course, in this instance, I wasn’t joking at all. And it occurred to me all at once, just in that very moment, that in her nearly ten years of age, I had never really talked about life before all of this. A flood of memories washed over my mind, and began welling up in my eyes.
By Brandon Boyer4 years ago in Fiction
The Mother, The Children, The Misery.
It’s a curious thing, really, the way that worlds can exist inside of worlds, and how quickly and quietly everything can change. Even more curious still, is how hideous existence can be. An unpredictable mixture of circumstance, and of luck, and of compassion, and of the summation of decisions. Perhaps the most bizarre thing of all though, is how ignorant we can become to the suffering of others, by choice or by some other device. This story is about a mother, and her children, and the paradox of their existence in a world very different from the ours, but also very much the same.
By Brandon Boyer4 years ago in Fiction
Shadows
Brian struggled to stay awake. Nursing cold coffee, the caffeine barely able to compete with the lullaby sound from the engine, the soft vibrations as it idled in the dead quiet of the early morning hours. He kept his eyes on the barn, occasionally he would flip the spot light on, and run the perimeter of the barn, and let it beam out across the open fields that surrounded it. He looked at the clock on the dashboard, the green lights blared 05:07 A.M. I’m giving him until 530, he thought to himself, and then it’s time to go.
By Brandon Boyer4 years ago in Fiction
Shadows
Morton was trapped. Lucid, but not quite conscious. Mentally, he was aware of what he was seeing; and it went on, one horrific nightmare at a time. He had tried to keep track, making rough estimations of the duration of each bit of his life that he watched, but it escaped him. He clung to his composure for as long as he was able, but the barrage of horror had proven to be to much. As the wheel of memories spun on, Morton found himself pleading for the end, his own voice echoing through his mind in this new plane of existence.
By Brandon Boyer4 years ago in Fiction
Shadows
He looked at his watch, 2:13 A.M. Morton calculated; 73 hours and 27 minutes; 1 hour, and 27 minutes past the 72 hour time clock that started when the station first received the call. He watched as the second hand made laps around infinity, the progression of time relative to the circumstances, it was moving at a rapid pace. And taking with it the likelihood of finding her.
By Brandon Boyer5 years ago in Fiction
Excerpts From a Journal; Circa 2246
Summer, 2246, 13th Entry We ran into a town today. From here, it looks like more of the same. It’s likely that they’ve been…... Johnny volunteered to go, I think I’m going to …... I can’t stomach the sight of the bones, picked clean of their flesh, but I need to find Sarah a gift. It has to be close to her birthday. We’re going to camp here for the night, and head into town when…...
By Brandon Boyer5 years ago in Fiction
Excerpts From a Journal; Circa 2246
Summer, 2246, 13th Entry We ran into a town today. From here, it looks like more of the same. It’s likely that they’ve been…... Johnny volunteered to go, I think I’m going to …... I can’t stomach the sight of the bones, picked clean of their flesh, but I need to find Sarah a gift. It has to be close to her birthday. We’re going to camp here for the night, and head into town when…...
By Brandon Boyer5 years ago in Fiction
