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

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Stories (925)

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Chocolat Chaud. Runner-up in Unreliable Challenge.
put the gun down except he didn't say it like that it was more like put... the gun... down. the words were like that hot chocolate mum bought me in France when i was little. comforting and commanding all at once. very grown up
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
No Rest For The Wicked
People leeched the colour out of the world, then wondered why they felt so depressed and unfulfilled. They locked themselves away indoors, staring at the one window, wondering why the Real World couldn't be as colourful and satisfying.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
It Takes a Village
We loved Brenna. In a way. The day the dragon brought her, we thought we were going to die. Mothers held their babies close. Grown men wet themselves.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
Not Everyone Can Pull It Off
Scowling in concentration, her tongue peeking pinkly, Kaylee fixed another scale in place. Tonight was the Halloween Dance. The whole school had been buzzing about it for weeks, and surely this costume would outshine every other.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
Tunnels
Sometimes I'd hear voices. When I was small, I thought it was evidence of fairies. I'd squat down near the skirting for ages at a time, listening for them. I tried leaving little bits of food, but Mum cleared it away.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
I Wore My Grief. Content Warning.
I need a bigger word than Unfair. It was the most surreal, unfair and painful thing I think a person could ever experience. Imagine it: imagine having a postpartum body but no baby. Swollen. Shrinking. Empty.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
Callie's Hope
I blame my mother. Cliché, no? She tells the story still, fingers hooked round the bedspread under her chin, her bird-light body barely making a dent in the mattress.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
i love you, stinky
i love how you shout at me from the doorstep, and your adorable brrrrp when you march by my legs i love how silky your fur is on my skin, promise of warmth in my lap very soon, punctuated by those forgetful little pins kneading me (needing me), and whiffling whiskers tickling my cheek, so eloquent
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Poets
The Magic of Cookery
She isn't much of a cook. She's just stuck a pot of cold water over a high heat, and started chucking stuff in it. This is a good thing, in one way. But it's frustrating for me to watch.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
one for the road; A Look Back At "Unfiltered"
we're sitting on the sofa and he expresses surprise at the prime minister's salary. honestly I expected it to be more, too. I shrug. I say...
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Writers
the mercenary poet
in a world where the written word is free poetry is cheap stream of consciousness even more so at least it doesn't cost money
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Poets
The Wretched Womb. Top Story - September 2024.
At the door, I hesitate. No, I want this. I’m done being doubled over in agony every month. No more blood and mess and embarrassment. Fool-proof birth control.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction