Chel Svendsgaard
Bio
Was raised as a hippie, putting on shows, clowning, etc. I rebelled against all that darned creative energy by getting a job in Finance and working long hours. Work work work, spend spend spend, why am I not happy? Time to get creative.
Stories (6)
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The Art Barn
The Art Barn I truly didn’t know that Devin was laundering money until years later. I just figured he was doing really well at the gallery. He would come home and tell me that he had sold one of my pieces for $5,000, and I had no reason to doubt him. I thought it was because my artwork was that good.
By Chel Svendsgaard5 years ago in Fiction
The Barn Door
The Barn Door I wasn’t ready to cross over yet, but these things don’t always go the way you plan. When the Committee told me it was time, I tried to back out. But that, of course, was unthinkable. That would jeopardize the whole mission. I didn’t want to be the one to undo all the good we had done so far.
By Chel Svendsgaard5 years ago in Fiction
That Darned Barn
That Damned Barn My sister Hannah never brought back Tupperware when she took home leftovers, but the thing with Devin was far worse. We had a similar taste in men, and I was dating Devin first. I guess I was boring compared to Hannah. Once he met Hannah, he was hers. Hannah and I had never really been close after that. I just didn’t feel I could trust her.
By Chel Svendsgaard5 years ago in Fiction
The Old Barn
I loved the crowded urban neighborhood I grew up in, so I was angry when my parents moved us to the rolling hills of farmland that was outside of outside of the tiny town of North San Juan. Looking back as an adult, I can see the allure. The place was paradise and very affordable, especially compared to the city. But as a 15-year-old, I felt like my folks had dragged me to the middle of nowhere and I was not happy about it.
By Chel Svendsgaard5 years ago in Fiction
Dystopian Locket Lost
When she had talked to her cat, it didn’t seem so odd. But now, wandering around her childhood home talking only to herself, Nora worried that she might have gone over the deep end. What would people say if they saw her having a complete conversation with only herself? This was a strange fear, given that Nora hadn’t seen another person in over three months.
By Chel Svendsgaard5 years ago in Fiction
