Jane Wheeler
Bio
"Nothing great was ever achieved without enthusiasm."
Stories (11)
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What's so Wrong with me?
He knew. The moment the other man stepped into the room – the man his ‘friend’ never spoke to him about and always tried to avoid addressing directly. The man with large broad shoulders, covered in muscle which was hardly covered by the suit that was far too tight for him. He knew he liked him. Or more realistically, had liked him.
By Jane Wheeler4 years ago in Fiction
Insomnia
Another night of sleepless exhaustion. I waited for the fatigue to consume me… but it never did. So I stared up at the ceiling, watching the shadows dance and wave down to me, performing so I didn’t have to look at nothing. As they moved, the howling outside grew louder, and the dancing sped up. In a frenzy of movement they twirled, leaped, and span like dancers swarming their stage. I was mesmerised, but apparently still not able to fall asleep.
By Jane Wheeler4 years ago in Fiction
A cold, Icy morning
The more he walked, the more he could think. The clouds gathered over head, dark and threatening they loomed over the town like a bad omen. They roared with laughed at his suffering; withered hands clenched around his supporting stick as the cold winds of winter nipped at his fragile skin. He peered through his glasses but was obscured by the frost that grew. He watched the crystals grow for a while, allowing his brain to be emptied -distancing himself from the numb sensation that had washed over him. He had hoped the morning would bring the beauty of the ice for sure, that crunched under his boots. The bold morning air had greeted him, not as warmly as he had hoped. But now he could watch as his strained breath rose up as a cloud in front of him, joining the white puffed clouds in the distance, eager to invite them to his town.
By Jane Wheeler4 years ago in Fiction
Are Libraries old relics; are they more important than ever?
Everyday life is stressful. Now imagine having no escape. Imagine feeling trapped in a never-ending cycle of work, school, and homework. Imagine being locked away from locked away from history, culture and whole other worlds.
By Jane Wheeler4 years ago in Education
Myth of a monster
This isn’t a story of a spoilt Prince who got everything he wanted. Despite the extravagant parties, golden laced suits and rooms filled with silver, the prince danced with hollow people. He listened to the same strained laughs, saw the same fake smiles, and witnessed the same false happiness. Surrounded by thousands of people, he had never felt more alone.
By Jane Wheeler4 years ago in Fiction
Ghost of
His solemn footsteps echoed on the old wooden bridge as he tightened the straps on his backpack and tucked his face into his warm scarf; it wasn’t all that cold outside, but he hated it anyway. He hated the sight of his breath in the night air and the familiar ache in his fingers and toes, the sting in his sinuses when his scarf slipped off his nose and the shiver that swept over his body. He hated it all.
By Jane Wheeler4 years ago in Fiction
