Kevin Faulkner
Bio
Hi! My name is Kevin. I am a 25 year old Poet and Artist, turning Storyteller. I have always enjoyed writing, but hadn't really considered myself to be a writer until somewhat recently. However, the more I do, the more my passion grows.
Stories (8)
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Going Nowhere, Fast
“Ugh, dear Lord,” he grunted, gripping to his forehead, as he stirred awake from what seemed like another drunken stupor. He had grown quite used to this. Moving slowly, he rubbed his palms into his eyes, as if to try to prepare his mind for another lousy day. However, his eyes shot open when he realized that the floor was shaking.
By Kevin Faulkner3 years ago in Fiction
Recompense
King Alaric II, There weren’t always dragons in the valley. I thought that they would be gone by now. Their spit-fire and greedy ways have torched the earth and bled it dry, but they still linger by demanding more. Even everything is not enough, I guess; not for them.
By Kevin Faulkner4 years ago in Fiction
As Family Requires
“Stop! Mom! He’s scaring me again!” screamed the little girl. “Tristen, what are you doing to your sister?” their mother sighed, as if she had heard this story before. “Just telling her about the owls in grandpa’s barn and how they use their deadly claws and night vision to hunt for little girls named ALICE!” he shouted while jumping to spook his sister yet again. “AHHH! MOM!” she screamed, only fueling her brothers fire. “Oh stop it Tristen,” their mother exclaimed. “Where did you hear any of that anyway?” she asked boldly. “Miss Maggie told me,” he replied. “We talked about it in science class, which means it’s true!” he followed with, while grinning an evil grin to his sister. “Nothing is going to hunt me, right mom?” Alice asked, while quivering slightly. “No hunny, nothing is going to hunt you,” their mother replied, glancing at the backseat with a reassuring smile. “But what about all the ghosts?” Tristen snickered. “Oh would you stop! We are almost there. You two can’t get along for ten more minutes?” their mom asked, hoping to quell the storm of impatience for a moment longer.
By Kevin Faulkner4 years ago in Families
Perched On A Windowsill
“I am going to be candid with you Theo, it isn’t good,” the doctor said, bracing himself for the news he was about to deliver. “The results here indicate advanced cancer in your colon, and it appears to have spread rapidly throughout your body. I am very sorry.” Woefully shocked, Theo stuttered back, “Wh— what exactly are you saying to me doc? I don’t understand.” Leaning in closer, grabbing Theo gently by the shoulder, he replied, “You’re dying Theo. And looking at these levels, I’d say you only have about five weeks.” In quiet desperation, Theo sank deeply into his chair. And while the doctor carried on about potential remedies and options, Theo nodded along slowly, pretending to listen. But his attention had surely been stolen by the looming thought, “Five weeks… Five weeks… Five weeks…” He couldn’t shake it. When the appointment ended, and all of the forgotten words had been said, Theo shook his doctor’s hand and left the office, trudging right past reception. He couldn’t see the point in scheduling a follow-up. He was a dead man.
By Kevin Faulkner4 years ago in Humans
The Little Black Book
It was a summer day, much like any other. The sun awoke the birds at approximately the same time I managed to fall asleep, and today that just happened to piss me off. The wrong side of the bed had been upending me for weeks now, and something about today felt like the final straw. I couldn’t help but grunt, “Forget it!” to myself, as I got back out of bed to distract myself with something useless.
By Kevin Faulkner5 years ago in Humans
