Isla Kaye Thistle
Bio
Aspiring Fiction Writer
Avid animal lover.
Voracious Reader.
Outdoor explorer.
Pet Mom
Stories (16)
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Retiring to Neverland
All men grow old, but some are lucky enough to grow young again. Those were the men that Wendy liked to visit most. The men who had spent the majority of their adult lives laboring away at one mundane task after another and then, once they were too old to see much more than blurry outlines or to hold their pee for more than twenty minutes, they started to pull innocuous little pranks on the other residents of the nursing home. And Peter was the ringleader among the puckish pensioners.
By Isla Kaye Thistle2 years ago in Fiction
Staying Afloat
My yearning for the ocean ebbed and flowed like the tide. Some days, I wanted nothing more than to be immersed by the sea, as this felt like my natural state of being. Other days, I wanted to move far far away and never look back because I feared my favorite place on Earth would become nothing but a bitter reminder of my father’s absence.
By Isla Kaye Thistle3 years ago in Petlife
Macy Mae Goes Hiking
“We’re going to North Carolina for Thanksgiving,” my brother said quietly, “figured it would be nice to get away for a while.” He ran his hand absentmindedly over the Pitbull sprawled out across his lap; belly to the ceiling and head thrown back against my brother’s chest.
By Isla Kaye Thistle3 years ago in Petlife
Revenge of the Whales
The deep melodramatic moan of a grieving humpback whale is carried by the current. Sound waves spread throughout the underwater realm and carry a message that transcends species' language barriers. Everything from the brown pelicans skimming the surface of the sea to the Marianas snailfish five miles down understands the pain being communicated.
By Isla Kaye Thistle3 years ago in Fiction
Bower Bird Blue
Some men call her completely insatiable, but the truth is she had standards so high that only a bower bird could reach. Beth first met him when he perched on her picnic table during one of her many failed first dates. The bird was fully dressed in sleek blue-black plumage. His eyes had a lavender hue and he stared with such love and longing that Beth was instantly mesmerized by his gaze. The human man she was with said something to try to get her attention, but she paid him little notice. His eyes were not as intense as the bird’, his dress was not as stunning, and he had a way of droning on and on as he spoke and expecting Beth to reply with simple affirmations that merely showed she was listening.
By Isla Kaye Thistle3 years ago in Fiction
Transmutation
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. But that doesn’t stop people from screaming. I couldn’t hear Hannah’s scream as she was sucked out into the far reaches of the galaxy, but I could see it. Her eyes were supernovas. Expanding. Exploding. Fear ricocheted off of her in all directions, propelling her backward, into the void.
By Isla Kaye Thistle3 years ago in Fiction
The Sacrifice
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. But I saw his jaw distend through the cameras on the forward bulkhead as his suit depressurized and my head filled in the rest. I heard it. All the way through the broken glass, along the tether, and through the vacuum.
By Isla Kaye Thistle3 years ago in Fiction
The Secret to Surviving a Florida Summer
In Florida, it’s always hot. Shorts and tank tops can usually be word year-round, save for winter nights when the temperature drops into the low seventies or, heaven forbid, the sixties, and cold-blooded Floridians begin to shiver like naked mole rats in the artic. Summer months, however, are characterized by a special kind of heat; the kind that many people from other states cannot fathom. It is an unquenchable heat that makes beach sand burn like sparks of flames, kicked up by too-large flip-flops traipsing down the beach. A heat that makes outside benches sear the skin left uncovered by bikini bottoms or short shorts, like meat on a BBQ grill—thick red lines trailing across the backs of legs in perfect symmetry with the rungs of the bench. In the summer, Florida heat is so fierce and so strong that it can only be appeased by two things; a dip in the ocean or a taste of Fla-Vor-Ice.
By Isla Kaye Thistle4 years ago in Lifehack
The Hunt of the Dragon
"There weren't always dragons in the valley," the man at the bar said dejectedly. He perched on his barstool, fingers tracing the lip of his glass of mulled wine. “And at this rate, they won’t last long.” It was a surprisingly sentimental tone from a man whose arm clearly bore the mark of a dragonslayer: a serpentine dragon enveloping a sword branded into his skin.
By Isla Kaye Thistle4 years ago in Fiction
Three Reasons to Teach Your Dog How to Talk, and Three Reasons Not to
There’s a current trend going around where people are teaching their dogs to talk using pre-recorded buttons. I will admit, I jumped on this bandwagon right away. My six-year-old Goldendoodle now has over a dozen buttons spanning the whole hallway. She adores her buttons, but I have mixed feelings. Here are a few pros and cons about teaching your dogs words, for all those currently considering communicating with their clever canine companions.
By Isla Kaye Thistle4 years ago in Petlife
The Freedom of the Sea
“When I die, I want you to sail out on a boat and spread my ashes in the sea,” my father told me when I was young. We were sitting together on a sailboat, tacking and jibing back and forth around the lake. It was one of my favorite memories, and I enjoyed it so immensely then that I didn’t even want to think of packing up and heading back to shore, let alone my father one day dying.
By Isla Kaye Thistle4 years ago in Families
