Lily ferris
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Stories (3)
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Another Can
A plain, undecorated can sat in his hands. The company's name printed clearly, a mountain lay behind those words. An unremarkable can. Its percentage is small and in the corner, almost unnoticeable. No warnings. We are meant to already understand the cans danger. He was meant to know. Maybe he already did.
By Lily ferris4 years ago in Fiction
Real Air
Sometimes I wonder what real air feels like. The tantalizing freshness, a cool breeze of fresh, real air. Is it always cold? What temperature is air set at? On sunny days, would you feel a warm, soft breeze? Drips of sunshine resting on bare bodies, mellow air drifting across the land. Dark, cast clouds, torrential rain, would that drag in cold air? Goosebumps, shivering skin wrapped in coats, to protect from biting air. I like to imagine that air is normally just warm, not cold, not unfeeling, but a warm glow. This feeling it would bring, relaxed and perfect. Is air colorless? In summer is it yellow? Hued by the bright, ever-shining sun. Winter, perhaps a pale blue, air moving, shifting through different sapphire hues. A gray, when the weather is neither hot nor cold, a perfect day. Air. Fresh. Clean. Would my lungs accept it, embrace this oxygen? I wonder how inhaling it would feel. An utter sense of perfection, to feel my lungs expand, taking its fill of air. Does it have a taste? I always presumed it would be tangy, sweet and subtle. It would be barely noticeable, yet the taste was always there. I could breathe all I wanted, for there was no short supply. This air sounded heavenly. I think about it a lot.
By Lily ferris4 years ago in Fiction
The Fountain
One more step, just one more step. Repeating this over and over in his head kept him at his steady pace. Calm washed over him, flooding him with euphoria. Of course, it was never going to be only one more step. However it gave him the power to continue forward, hope he thought he’d never have. In the distance, like a page waving in the wind, stood a mouthwatering fountain. In his eyes it shifted, and glimmered like gold. Refreshing, cool water cycled through its system, falling from the top, and splashing at the bottom only to rise and fall yet again. This created an endless cycle of pure bliss for his shriveled throat. The fountain radiated under the intense heat, reflecting the rays even brighter off its surface. The scintillating fountain blinded him, but he dared not stop staring at it, fearing it would disappear into the desert abyss if he so much as blinked.
By Lily ferris4 years ago in Horror
