E. C. Mira
Bio
I’m a poet at heart, always chasing the quiet moments and turning them into words. Most of what I write is poetry, but every now and then inspiration pulls me in new directions.
www.poetrybyecmira.com
Achievements (1)
Stories (113)
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Just Eight Hours
You can do this. It’s only for one night. Eight hours inside the house and you walk away with a thousand dollars. The best part? You don’t even have to do it alone. Stacy is here with you. We’ve been friends for seven years now, anything we do together is destined to turn out well. It’ll be just like any of our other sleepovers; only slightly more haunted. Eight hours. One thousand dollars. A fair trade, given everything that is at stake. Funny to think that just two weeks ago I would have sworn I’d never step foot in this house, or in any haunted house. My friends and family say I’m paranoid. My coworkers have commented on how I can be jumpy. My five-year-old cousin says I’m a scaredy cat. But honestly, I think I’m the only reasonable one around. There are thousands of things in the world that we can’t explain or find reasons for, and those things are better off left alone. I don’t care if ghosts are real or not, they can stay in their houses, and I’ll stay in mine.
By E. C. Mira2 years ago in Fiction
The Last Three Years
Chapter 1 It’s been three years since I last saw him. One-thousand and ninety-five days since he slammed the front door and never looked back. I’ve thought many times about that day. Every time has led to tears as I remember how many mistakes I made that never had the chance to be rectified. Of course, I would do it differently if I could, but second chances like that only happen in movies. I hurt him. I knew that as I was doing it, and yet I could never find the strength to stop. It went on for a long time, the affair that is, and like many mistakes, it started off innocent. A friendly coworker, a few late nights, inside jokes, and an accidental kiss.
By E. C. Mira2 years ago in Chapters
0.The Fool
When I was younger, I used to make fun of my grandparents for birdwatching. It always seemed like such an old person’s hobby. It was never mean-spirited or anything like that, just innocent fun. You just don’t realize when you’re young that you will one day be old too. Kids think they are invincible. It’s what I admire most about them. That complete fearlessness as they begin to face the world. Still young enough that they can’t imagine life will ever be anything but kind to them. It’s strange to think about how quickly that perspective changes. Of course, most of the ideas one has as a child will change as they age. For example, as a 13-year-old I swore I would never be the old lady that just watches the birds all day. I was going to be cool. I would know exactly how to work technology, and I’d understand, and use, the current slang without sounding like I was trying too hard. Ambitious, I know. But it’s good to have goals.
By E. C. Mira2 years ago in Fiction
Anchored
I’ve always loved the lake in my hometown. I can’t count how many days I spent laying on the beach, and all the nights I spent staring out across the water. Hoping to find whatever it was I was still searching for. Then one day I did find it. I found you; and suddenly the lake wasn’t the only thing keeping me anchored to that town. It broke my heart when I left. It breaks my heart every time I go back and find myself alone again; staring out across the water, searching for something that is long gone.
By E. C. Mira3 years ago in Fiction
Appeasing the Gods
If someone told you that the only way to stop a volcano from erupting was to throw a couple of virgins inside it, would you believe them? For most people, the answer is a solid no. Today we have enough knowledge of how volcanoes work to know that it does not matter what goes in the volcano. If a volcano is going to erupt there is nothing we can do to stop it from doing so. While we know this today, people living many years ago did not share this knowledge. For them, the threat of an eruption would have been devastating. In order to try and keep this from happening, they relied on the wisdom of their priests. So when the priest told them to throw a couple of virgins into the volcano, they did it without question.
By E. C. Mira4 years ago in Humans
Story Time
Once, a long time ago, there was a small library on the corner of what used to be a busy street. In its prime this street was full of people rushing towards their next stop. The cobblestone path was smooth and only wide enough for two smaller sized people. Only the oldest people can remember what it felt like to walk down that worn cobblestone path and end up on the front steps of the library. For as long as they could remember, the librarian would host a story time every Thursday from 1:45 to 2:30.
By E. C. Mira4 years ago in Fiction
