K. Kocheryan
Bio
I write, delete, write, and on most days, delete again.
Stories (40)
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Sleeping with Ice. Runner-Up in Tales of Hearth Challenge.
The crackling fire was calm compared to the winter ice whistling against the windows. Eyes drooping, Lola watched the white, battery-powered Christmas lights of a small, cheap convenience store tree twinkle like stars. She breathed in the light scent of warmth and sweetness that filled her relaxed body.
By K. Kocheryanabout a year ago in Families
They Will Dream Again
Sweet grapes burst under teeth, filling children's mouths with a taste better than candy. Watermelon juice dripped down their chins while their fingers were still sticky from picking apart fresh figs. They sat on the soft grass, feeling a light wind graze against their hair and clothes, waiting for the adults to light the pyre.
By K. Kocheryan2 years ago in Fiction
I Should Have Kept Them Open
I live in a strange simplicity, a cycle that seems to never end. When I open my eyes, there is only darkness. It encloses me, keeps me here, living in stale, still air; it is how I live. When I close my eyes, I see the same thing: a white silken fabric inches from my face; it is the only thing I dream of. When I touch it, there is comfort from a familiarity that I can't explain; it is the only thing I am able to feel. Other times, as sweat runs down my skin, I dream of the beautiful silk soaked in blood that drips and drips and drips.
By K. Kocheryan2 years ago in Fiction
Keep Your Treasures and I'll Keep Mine
Our treasures: the common, the rare, the kept behind closed doors, or open for the world to see. When we think of our treasures, most of us can think of one or several. Sometimes, when we look at it or them, when the world zeroes in and it is only you and I, or them and me, they might as well hold a truth that must be, believer or not, divine-given.
By K. Kocheryan2 years ago in Art
