L.C. Schäfer

Joined May 2020

925 stories

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Summer Leaves (grab it while it's gorgeous)

Never so naked as I am on a page

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I'm not a writer! I've just had too much coffee!

Sometimes writes under S.E.Holz

Achievements (13)

Stories (925)

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carried away
sun sparkles on foam paper bird scores sky, swoops. oops. small child, salt-sprawled, bawls.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Poets
Don't Do it Lady
Women's shoes on damp, gritty concrete make a specific sound. Even thinking of it conjures a foreboding image. A gloomy space late at night, with a pool of chilly yellow from a nearby electric light. It flickers (of course) sparking worry that it'll fail. Our soon-to-be-met heroine will be plunged into darkness, rendered almost blind, and therefore more vulnerable. Delicious, yes?
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
Varkon, AKA "Shima & Wol Go For A Drive"
"Okay, now just ease back this lever, and... You're doing great, try to relax. Give it a little more speed, just a touch..."
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
Queen. Top Story - October 2024.
This is what it's like. To be a real actor! My blood fizzes. My eyes must be shining. I imagine how every component would look under all those lights; my outfit, my legs. Already planning how I'll angle my body, where I'll plant my gaze.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
Making Your Vocal Piece Readable: 101
The first step to earning a penny on Vocal is the same as writing for anywhere: Shit's got to be readable. It never hurts to revisit a few basics, so here we go:
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Writers
Ol' Silas
Silas shuts the door with a click. A slice of the child running away from his house caught for a moment in the doorframe. His hook gleams at him from where it's hanging with his overcoat and waterproofs.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
Monster. Content Warning.
After it gets dark, that's the danger-time. It's a special kind of quiet, made up of lots of small sleepy sounds. I tremble.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
The Scream
There was only one rule: don’t open the door. Actually, there was another one: sit in the bath. Run the water. Get all the towels in there, get them really sloshy. Us too.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
A Spot of Cream
She reaches on tippy toes to kiss his lying lips. She has no idea. Debra is a good girlfriend to Sean. She took classes to learn massage when he started football. Likes his mother. Buys little gifts "just because" on her way home. Trusts him completely. He goes where he wants, when he likes, no questions asked. A smile, a kiss, a "have fun, babe".
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
Mother?
The woman on the doorstep isn't my daughter. My daughter's dead. We identified the body. We had a funeral. The loss tore our lives apart. The brutality of it. It still stings, every day. Even now, twenty-five years later.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
Tales of Way Back When
Someone said hell is other people. We were convinced of it, back then. Or something only a breath away: other people are poison. Their touch could make you deathly ill; their breath could kill you.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
House Call
Bloodbath or wellcheck? It was one of those where it could go either way. "I've just killed my husband," she'd said on the phone. What normal person takes another's life, then calmly owns up to it?
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction