Bridget Couture
Bio
An aspiring author and poet with an unquenchable love for books. Can often be found typing intensely or substituting reading for sleep.
Stories (40)
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Remember Us As Medea
The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. A glimpse, which only a sliver of a shard, an insignificant, hopeless speck of humanity had. Was she fortunate? Was she lucky that her position granted her such proximity? She could never decide. Every snippet of that glorious sky seemed to clash with the Hell into which she was born. Always two opposite forces, destined to split her soul in two.
By Bridget Couture3 years ago in Fiction
The Climb to the Sun. Runner-Up in Behind the Last Window Challenge.
The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. Anthony’s room. His Garden. The pane was vast, with a landscape of glass squares woven throughout a sleek ebony frame. Each square was composed of several protective panels, and though they blurred the view slightly, no amount of separation could make it less captivating.
By Bridget Couture3 years ago in Fiction
