Lindsey McNeill

Joined November 2021

6 stories

Bio

Writer • Mystic • Creative Soul

Stories (6)

Filter by community

Sort by (Optional)

Pulled Under to Find Something Real
Dear Depression, I did not expect you, but you invited yourself in and found me in the centre of the room, hustling for approval. I held hostages with my stories. I was coloured brighter then, hiding my limp so carefully.
By Lindsey McNeill3 years ago in Poets
wait for instructions...
Keeping still, quiet the stone sits, being itself and endures the storm.
By Lindsey McNeill3 years ago in Poets
The Astara Helm
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Frank lifted his scalpel and looked up to the glowing words that hung in the air before him. The machine rang its signature tone, waiting for a response.
By Lindsey McNeill3 years ago in Fiction
Writing Ritual to Welcome in 2022
Words have tremendous power. Over the years of integrating my craft with my spiritual practice, I've come to appreciate journaling as an essential tool for self-reflection. Recording my thoughts, feelings and desires have proven to be the action required to lay strong foundations for necessary change and personal transformation, yet it's often the thing I avoid when life is full of obstacles, chaos or painful emotions. (So the last 2 years.)
By Lindsey McNeill4 years ago in Motivation
A War of Whispers
I never developed a fondness for the taste of coffee, nor sweets and pastries. In fact there were few culinary items that I would suffer the presence of others for in public, yet the Cafe du Croissant was where I was instructed to wait. I sat alone at a small table along the wall. It was evening now and the shift to night allowed me to wait in the shadows. I was offered soup, but couldn’t eat at a time like this. My heart was pounding. In my pocket, a vial of poison and a strip of paper with the address of a journalist, followed by her handwriting. Bring me his ear.
By Lindsey McNeill4 years ago in Fiction
My Heart is a Compass
Follow your heart, they say, but sometimes she leads you to the landfill. A plastic bag can float past in the wind and you’ll hear her say, “this is good enough.” The heart may also choose a love that is secret, impossible, utterly ridiculous, or a lie, just to see what happens. Because of these things, I viewed my heart as a total liability. She clearly needed adult supervision and under no circumstances could be responsible for making major life decisions. Then grief came to town and changed everything I knew about my heart.
By Lindsey McNeill4 years ago in Motivation