Josiah Mosher
Bio
Lover of life, coffee, fiction, personal development and animals.
Stories (2)
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Broken Memories
She doesn’t remember them very well anymore, just the fuzzy memories of the time they would go visit her mom’s parents out on the farm. Strangely she remembers the smells, the hot muggy air, the musty smell of the hay drying in the fields, the smell of the manure in that old barn, the barn where she met him, the boy with the crooked smile. She remembers his face, that tousled, sandy coloured hair that fell over his forehead, the blueness of his eyes in the sunlight, how when he saw her that crooked smile would light up his face. A tear slips down her face and she wipes it away with the back of her hand. Just to see her parents once more, funny how the memory worked, you remember people who were in your life for just a moment, then gone… yet the ones who raised you, sometimes they are a blur, a image no longer there, like a vhs that was scratched, blurred and remote.
By Josiah Mosher5 years ago in Fiction
Broken In Time
The rain wouldn’t stop, it came down in sheets, filling the cracks and washing away any scarce sign of life that was there before. Charlotte shivered as the wind whipped through the broken house she was hiding in. There wasn’t any real houses standing anymore. Not since they came. Those who had survived hid underground or moved constantly from one location to another to avoid being found. “If there was a hell, this must be it” thought Charlotte with a snort. She could see the water rushing down the hill into the lake at the bottom, which had been growing steadily for the last week. Pains of hunger cut through her thoughts and she reached for a root she had been chewing on the last three days to stave off the numbing hunger. She doesn’t remember the last time she saw another person, not in real life, just the fading photo in the broken locket hanging around her neck.
By Josiah Mosher5 years ago in Fiction
