Rowan Finch
Stories (7)
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The Burned World
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. But something had changed. It happened after nameless centuries filled with windswept summer nights of silent beauty, after decades of Marsh Kings floating still in their crystal green swamps, their nights sleepless and their days filled with the flashy bell chimes of thin metal fish.
By Rowan Finch4 years ago in Fiction
The Burned World
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. But something had changed. It happened after nameless centuries filled with windswept summer nights of silent beauty, after decades of Marsh Kings floating still in their crystal green swamps, their nights sleepless and their days filled with the flashy bell chimes of thin metal fish.
By Rowan Finch4 years ago in Fiction
Like Bears in a Cave
You don't have to do anything, you know. Caves are for bears, but it seems really romantic to live in one with someone else. Things might get tense with all that sleeping on the ground and difficulty with food, but it would just take getting used to.
By Rowan Finch4 years ago in Fiction
It's All a Mess
It was one of those fights that started with something small — Jen walking over to the couch, a plate with a piece of chocolate cake in her hand. She got distracted by something on the television and tripped over Ronica’s foot. The cake tumbled to the couch cushion and fell frosting-first into the teal crushed velvet.
By Rowan Finch5 years ago in Fiction
The Sky Was Not Blue
Glenn had often marveled at the thinness of April’s fingers compared to his own. Every single time her hand was in his, it felt heartbreakingly fragile. Even after it had undoubtedly been hundreds of times that she had slipped her hand against his hand, running her fingers along his palm first before curling her fingers into the spaces between his own, he remained ever diligent about walking the line between holding it tight enough that she would know how much he didn’t want to let her go, and being soft enough that he wouldn’t crush her impossibly small bones.
By Rowan Finch5 years ago in Fiction
A New Heart
Sam sat on the edge of a partially buried, long defunct piece of machinery, all black ledges hanging over bent cabins crammed with wires and ribboned throughout with bar grating panels. He held his knees close to himself and stared into the near distance at a massive, rusted metal tube that sat in the middle of a field of dead grass. It was lying on its side, allowing the wind to race through it, creating a powerfully haunting bellow that echoed throughout the despairingly still and lonely world.
By Rowan Finch5 years ago in Fiction
