Lucy Arnold
Stories (3)
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The Garden Guardian
Violet stared gloomily at the emerald blur of ferns and cedars racing past the car window. Every so often, she flicked her eyes to her mother, Margaret, in the driver’s seat. Though lively and sparkling green in the past, Margaret’s eyes were now blank and hollow as they focused on the road. Violet knew that her own eyes carried a similar look; it was one month on the day since her father and Margaret’s husband, Pat, had suddenly died from a heart attack.
By Lucy Arnold4 years ago in Fiction
Scorched Earth Tactics
I wake very suddenly with a heaving cough, chest tight and throat raw from the air heavy with smoke and ash. I don’t know how long I was unconscious, but I slowly become aware that I am lying on a scorched bed of grass and cracked mud, inches from the murky shallows of the tiny lake (really more of a pond) that is my Town’s only water source. Was my Town’s only water source.
By Lucy Arnold5 years ago in Futurism
