Da’mon-Ahsy Eugene Thompson
Bio
Hi! My Name is Da'mon Thompson. I've always had a passion for writing and hope one day to be a professional author. I have a couple writing projects that I will post on here as I work on them, focusing on those with the most engagement.
Stories (5)
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Death's Doorstep. Content Warning.
Laughter filled Mark's ears, drowning out pained cries and begging prayers. The laughter was innocent and familiar, calming him, and forcing him to forget who was crying, and what they were crying for. He wiped tears off of his own face as he looked around, seeing his childhood bedroom. Superhero posters lined the walls and his bed was perfectly made under his flat blue blankets. Cartoons played on his TV and Lego blocks littered his carpeted floor. He hadn’t been home in years, and his mom told him that she’d repurposed his old room, so he didn't understand why it looked how it did when he was young. On his nightstand next to a photo of Mark's father holding him as a baby, sat a colorful spiderman watch. He’d lost that watch years ago. He went to pick it up when he heard a knock at the front door.
By Da’mon-Ahsy Eugene Thompson3 months ago in Fiction
The Woman of His Dreams. Content Warning.
Phillip prayed for night to fall sooner. He rushed his way through the shower and scarfed down his microwave dinner. He’d get to see her again soon. A pair of basketball shorts was all he had on when he finally lay down his head. Before long, he dozed off, and found bliss. Every night he dreamed of the same thing. A woman, one he’d never met when awake. This was always the highlight of his day. This time, he found himself in a field of sunflowers, the sun shining down and kissing his skin. There were a few dotted trees, but other than that, flowers reached to the horizon in every direction. A breeze brushed his face, pulling his head to his left. There she was, picking sunflowers in a blue sundress, almost matching the sky itself. He walked toward her and she looked up with a smile. She ran to meet his embrace.
By Da’mon-Ahsy Eugene Thompson7 months ago in Fiction
Banishment
He cried. He cried and cried and cried until he woke up, not realizing he’d cried himself to sleep. He opened his eyes and was met with confusion followed by understanding and sorrow. She was gone. He didn’t know if he’d ever see her again, but he knew how slim the chances were. She’d been banished. Kicked out of the safety of the walls and thrown into the Forbidden Lands, where she wasn’t likely to last a day. At least it hadn’t rained last night. Eventually, he rose, rubbing crust from his eyes with his forearm, and dragging himself from his bed and out of his small house, which was being held together by scraps of metal, wood, plastic, and whatever else he could get his hands on. He didn’t care that he still wore his worn and torn nightgown or that his blonde hair lay matted wildly on his head. He went to use an outhouse near a huge wall reinforced by layers of wood, bricks, etc. Eventually, he returned home to lay back on his bed, facing the ceiling and staring. He thought about how what was happening was his fault, and how the love of his life and his unborn child were alone and in danger. He started contemplating ways to escape the walls surrounding him, starting to feel more and more trapped by the second, as though the walls were closing around him and he was growing at twice their speed. He sat up, realizing how heavy each breath came. He looked toward his door, longing for fresh air, but dreading moving. He lay on his side and stared into space, when he heard a voice from within his home.
By Da’mon-Ahsy Eugene Thompson5 years ago in Fiction
