S.N. Evans
Bio
Christian, Writer of Fiction and Fantasy; human. I have been turning Caffeine into Words since 2007. If you enjoy my work, please consider liking, following, reposting on Social Media, or tipping. <3
God Bless!
Stories (78)
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Lackluster
Golden skin, golden eyes, and golden hair; she was the picture of beauty and perfection. Every man who had ever seen her was immediately smitten. She would have none of them. She was beautiful, intelligent, and wise the only things they were attracted to. It was her outer beauty. All she ever wanted was a man that could look past all of her beauty and bother to see the person within; none had even tried.
By S.N. Evans4 years ago in Fiction
Dear Mum
Dear Mum, I have a confession; you know that hole by my bedroom, the one I told you I put my hand through when I tripped? It was believable because of how weak leaky gutters had made some of the walls. It was only half true. I didn’t trip. I was angry, so angry that I punched through the wall. I can't recall what made me so angry, but I saw red for a moment. Boom! There was a hole in the wall, and I needed to develop a story to cover it. I remember no one was home, no witnesses, so there was only my word. And I’m sorry to admit my word was a lie. I had never been your angry child. I would like to say this was the first time my frustration took a physical turn, but it wasn’t.
By S.N. Evans4 years ago in Confessions
Diabetic Ketoacidosis
On May 29th, 2013, I was a senior in college, preparing to graduate and marry the love of my life. My focus was on passing finals, finishing my work week, moving, and my final plans for our wedding. I worked forty hours a week and had spent the previous year dieting and exercising to fit my dream wedding dress. I made sure to drink lots of water and stay hydrated. My hard work seemed successful; I lost seventy-five pounds. I had never felt more beautiful. I had never made healthy choices so easily or felt so motivated. But, in reality, my body was starving. None of the glucose my body processed made it into my cells, remaining in my blood.
By S.N. Evans4 years ago in Longevity
The Blackest Night
The moonless sky was an obsidian cloak cast with clusters of silver starlight. The planet's surface bathed in abyssal black, an ill omen to the inhabitants of Half-Moon. All was quiet and still as an ancient tomb. The inhabitants barred every door and shut their shutters at this devil's hour. A mordant lake of water lapped along the bank, its sloshing slap the only echoing sound down the grimy cobbled streets. Everyone knew; that anyone caught in the blackness would never be seen again.
By S.N. Evans4 years ago in Fiction
Hero of Dayne
The noxious perfume of smoke, blood and dank cavern floods the giant chamber ahead. Lanky mottled-gray monsters sit surrounding a massive bonfire. Their throats reverberate with a cicada-like buzz at ear-splitting volume. Their too-large milky eyes stare transfixed upon the licking tongues of crimson flame, their razor-sharp claws digging into the cavern’s slick floor. One rises, lumbering into the shadows beyond the firelight. Returning, dragging a man by his hair, the monster tosses him onto the fire with ease. Gut-churning screams join the cacophonous din as a tower of black smoke drifts up toward a tall ominous statue, a pleasing sacrifice to their monstrous god.
By S.N. Evans4 years ago in Fiction
Blue and Red Roses
It had been many years since the villagers of Vale had thought about the Blue Witch. She had faded into the realm of myth, though she still roamed the wood as alive as he had in those days. She did not look a day past twenty. Her name was Kyamra, though no one paused to learn it, and she was blessed or cursed with immortality and eternal beauty. Spending her time roaming the wood wild and free, she sang as she gathered herbs and tended to her hidden garden of enchanted azure roses. But, for all the beauty of nature surrounding her, she craved something no one ever offered. Kyamra was lonely.
By S.N. Evans4 years ago in Fiction
