Pseudo Nym
Bio
Stories (7)
Filter by community
Oliver's Favorite Memory
My brother, Oliver, and I try not to talk about what happened to our parents. He was only six when it happened but he remembers everything that happened. Oliver didn’t want to talk to anyone after that except me. I always knew Oliver was a bit odd and shy compared to most of his classmates, but being in that car crash, seeing our mom get showered in glass, he became almost catatonic. Getting a whisper out of him was like pulling teeth, but I would do anything just to make sure he was at least somewhat okay. No social worker could get through to him, but at least if I was there, he would respond.
By Pseudo Nym4 years ago in Fiction
Bolts, Swords, and Marigold Flowers
No one except my husband, Warren, knew that my mother was an elf, and my father was human. He always said, “Warren and Evelyn would prosper, no matter what.” It was cute. Eight years ago when I gave birth to Serena, I wanted to make sure she was more in touch with her elven ancestry, so we moved to Cinderwood. I stayed at home teaching Serena about the world and using my knowledge of the Earth around us to help tend to the sick. The beautiful, green village of Cinderwood was created as a reservation for elves just outside the city of Avalon near the edge of the land, where The King sits in his castle overlooking Lorelai Lake. The elves that were supposed to live in Cinderwood preferred living in the forest adjacent to it. Therefore, this village became a community of those who supported the diversity of the world or just hated King Elias. I moved to Cinderwood for both reasons.
By Pseudo Nym4 years ago in Fiction
To Whom It May Concern
To whom it may concern, If you are reading this letter, you may either be surprised, angry, or not reading this letter for very long. To the media all I’m ever known as is a goon or a henchman, or worse, a “Rubberband”, thanks to that pseudo-hero Gold Guardian. I have a name and it is Samuel White, not that any of you ever cared to ask. I don’t really blame you, though. I know my own choices put me here and I have no one to blame but myself, especially for having some hope that I could find help while I was drowning in my mistakes.
By Pseudo Nym4 years ago in Fiction
My Deception
The Second World War was a mess for the whole world, but the role I played in it was particularly deceptive. I was born and raised in Germany and lived there for about fourteen years of my life. Once I understood more about the world around me, a fascist leader was coming into power, and I was manipulated to change my entire life. My accent had to change, my clothing, my family, and my friends all had to change. The men who made me do all this had me believe it would all be so easy. I didn’t know I would be helping cause so much pain and distress.
By Pseudo Nym4 years ago in Fiction
Angelina
The most wonderful woman in the world I’ve ever met is my beloved Angelina. Her eyes find a way of locking me into a deep gaze where I can just stare at them, without even realizing it. Her smile is so cute, with dimples on each side. She has a giggle that makes me smile every single time. I could go on for hours talking about how she makes me laugh, how much of a better man she makes me, and how amazing she has been in my life. She is the love of my life, and I strive to make her happy in any way I can. If you haven’t found this kind of love, I sincerely hope you do, it’s worth every second of your life.
By Pseudo Nym4 years ago in Motivation
His Gift To Me
As I approach the old barn, I take a moment to breathe it all in. The yellow paint that has somehow degraded to a sick green color, the windows barely hanging on, the wood creaking with gusts of wind. My hands squeeze the beautiful red collar that belonged to my best friend, Charlie. Even though my eyes witness an abandoned barn, my heart feels nothing but bittersweet memories, warmth laying on my shoulders, and relief in my breath.
By Pseudo Nym5 years ago in Petlife
His Rose
The sounds of twigs snapping, echo through the woods. Worn leather boots make a pathway of smushed grass and flattened leaves as Edwin continues to survey his surroundings. The sounds of loose leaves moving through the trees deeper into the woods, loud insects looking for a fellow lonely soul, and the smell of wet grass, all just background for Edwin as he focuses his senses to find what he’s looking for.
By Pseudo Nym5 years ago in Fiction
