Dawn Snyder
Stories (4)
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Realm of Kyrre
Emily was startled to attention by the sound of her doorbell ringing. She quickly tossed aside the book she had been lost in and sprang to her feet. When she got to her door and opened it, no one was there, but on the ground lay a small package the size of a ring box wrapped in brown paper. Naively, Emily picked up the package and returned to where she had been sitting on the couch. “This is rather strange,” she thought to herself. “I probably shouldn’t open it, but what could be that bad and fit in a box this small?” Emily slowly, cautiously, pulled at the tape holding the paper on the box. The wrapper unfurled to reveal an ornate ring box with beautiful scrolling patterns carved on all six sides. There was a slip of paper placed neatly under the box. Emily pulled it free to see if it contained answers to the mysterious package. The note read simply: “take care to mind your words and follow your heart.” What a strange and ominous sentence Emily thought. What could possibly be in the box to warrant such a warning she wondered. The only way to find out was to open it.
By Dawn Snyder4 years ago in Fiction
Childish Imaginings
Amelia was a peculiar child. She always spoke about nonexistent creatures as if she spent time with them. So, when she spoke about wood nymphs and faeries we all just kind of ignored her and wrote it off as the imaginings of a small child. That was until something very strange happened.
By Dawn Snyder4 years ago in Fiction
Missing from the Farm
I open my eyes just a crack. I try to take in my surroundings, but the light is just so bright, and my head is pounding. Where am I, and why do I hear running water? I lift my hands to my face to try and block the light that I have now surmised is the sun. Slowly I push myself to a seated position and fully open my eyes, wincing from the pain. Where in the world am I? I look around and realize I am seated next to a small, bubbling stream and surrounded by the most beautiful trees covered in fall-colored leaves. I would think I had died and gone to heaven if not for the pounding pain in my head. I try to gather my thoughts and piece together memories, but there is nothing. The only thing I can recall is my name, Abigail.
By Dawn Snyder5 years ago in Fiction
