Call Me Les
Bio
Aspiring etymologist and hopeless addict of children's fiction.
If I can't liberally overuse adverbs and alliteration, I'm out!
Website: lesleyleatherdale.ca
#elbowsup
~&~
She/Her
Stories (98)
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When You Say Nothing At All
Ding! It was the fifth time his phone had gone off that day, the sound intruding into his solitude like a chainsaw in a forest. She'd called earlier, but he hadn't picked up. He'd meant to put the damn thing on silent before laying down.
By Call Me Lesabout a month ago in Fiction
What Really Happened to Amelia Earhart?
"Fred!" "Fre-" the end of the word was lost as Amelia choked on blood mixed with sand. She'd bitten her tongue in the crash. There was a head wound, too, she realized because she could feel the sticky wetness dripping down her forehead.
By Call Me Lesabout a month ago in Fiction
A Selkie's Return to the Deep
Growing up in rural Ireland, I never knew my father. Or rather, I knew of him, but we had never met. When pressed, all my mother would say was that he was an officer in the navy, and that it was better for everyone if he stayed an ocean away. But I never felt the absence of a parent; Mamma was the kind of person who took up all the space in the room. Everyone who met her commented on her breathtaking beauty and captivating charm. I loved listening to her sing the old lullabies and ballads while she danced around our home, graceful even when doing something as simple as washing the dishes.
By Call Me Lesabout a month ago in Fiction
The Horse That Mattered
Since I usually spent the first week of August moping about, when I whistled on my way to breakfast, my Aunt Fern knew something was up. I sat down at the kitchen table with a smile. She smiled back, kissed my cheek and passed me a bowl of oatmeal and a glass of orange juice.
By Call Me Lesabout a month ago in Fiction
Falling Through Thin Ice
Lena inhaled sharply. It was a lie; it had always been a lie and always would be a lie. But she didn't care! She kissed her husband back deeply. Kissing him left her breathless, and knowing this might be their last kiss for who knows how long made it all the more precious to her.
By Call Me Lesabout a month ago in Fiction
Review: Jillian Jiggs
I'm an INFP living with bipolar. I also have some ADHD tendencies. At any given hour, I boil down to a strange dichotomy of fantastical effervescence and organized chaos before alternating to melancholy so severe it would make Edgar Allen Poe resemble Mr. Rogers.
By Call Me Lesabout a month ago in Families
