ClaireJulia
Bio
Who am I to write a story? We are our own story, of wonder, of tragedy, of laughter, of contradictions and stupidity, of intelligence and synergy, love and anger, and death. Writing captures it all – and sometimes stories can sing.
Stories (3)
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Life and Entropy
A bag full of toy cars with no wheels. Single shoes. A hard drive. Lamps, failing in their duty. Picture frames and broken spectacles. Mud nurturing green shoots and a gold ring. A ceramic sink. Library books, well leafed. A locket, cradling a curl of shining hair. A rotary phone. Endless photographs…..sketches and drawings…..outpourings. Discarded or lost. A will, handwritten and folded neatly into a disintegrating envelope. Keys.
By ClaireJulia3 years ago in Fiction
The Wood Dragon
Prologue Fantasy Challenge There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. They were there now. She could feel them. It made no sense to Caitir that she was the only one. Their breath vibrated in her dreams at night, from the safe confines of the crannog. There was a hum in the Valley that, if the old stories were true, hadn’t been heard for eons. To deny it was tearing her apart.
By ClaireJulia4 years ago in Fiction
The Wood Dragon
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. They were there now. She could feel them. It made no sense to Caitir that she was only one . Their breath vibrated in her dreams at night, from the safe confines of the crannog. There was a hum in the Valley that, if the old stories were true, hadn’t been heard for eons. To deny it was tearing her apart.
By ClaireJulia4 years ago in Fiction
