Sara Taylor
Bio
I have been writing on and off since I was 11 years old, I started writing stories to make my younger brother laugh because he was disabled mentally and physically and he didn't have a lot to laugh about because of all the pain he was in.
Stories (8)
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Jingle All the Way
Jingle All the Way. Poppy was Santa’s new first in command, she had come from the toy factory about three months prior and had been promoted to Santa’s first in command since his actual first in command Bruno was out fighting off the Flu. It was strange to Santa that Bruno came down sick right after Poppy had arrived, she was a new Elf in the factory and had set her sights high from day one. Usually new Elf’s went to the Reindeer stables for no less than three years to prove themselves, but in less than three months she had made her way all the way to the top, by passing Elves that had been working their entire lives in one department. Most were happy to just stay put in one department though. Not, Poppy, she had made it clear upon arriving that she didn’t want to stay put she had goals and had set her sights on Bruno’s job right away. Mrs. Claus was suspicious of Poppy because she didn’t hang out with the other Elves when on break and she didn’t like the usual Elf foods and drinks. Mrs. Claus was a very good judge of a person and so if she said to watch out for Poppy then Santa was going to watch out for her.
By Sara Taylor4 years ago in Fiction
Yule Be Sorry
Yule Be Sorry. The date is December 25th, Andrea is sitting with her two sons unwrapping Christmas gifts, while Rob watches taking pictures. Everyone is smiles, until Brian the oldest son, 16 years old, opens a small gift that is wrapped in a wrapping paper different to any paper and bows that are under the tree. “Rob, is that from you? I don’t remember getting that for Brian.” She looked confused at the box. “No, I thought you got it.” Brian started to open the wrapping on the box, and inside there was some tissue paper and a note that rea, “YULE BE SORRY!” Brian laughed and showed it to his parents and then shook the box, to make sure nothing else came out of it. Nothing else fell out, “What does the label say, who is it from?” Andrea picked up the lid of the box and the wrapping paper and turned it all kinds of ways trying to see a name on it. It only read, “To Brian.”
By Sara Taylor4 years ago in Horror
Jack
My First Victim Martha Tabram: August 7th 1888 George Yard Buildings. White Chapel. I walk the dirty, filth ridden streets of London, more specifically White Chapel, I repulses me all these creatures of the night trying to sell me their disease ridden rotten over used carcasses. What on earth would Me a wealthy gentleman Doctor want to sully myself with the likes of these if you can even call them women in a dark alley. It is cold tonight. I am looking for a women to practice my trade on and make these things of the night see how they are putting themselves at risk by plying their trade with all and sundry at all hours of the night, in dark alleys and in doorways, because they can’t afford to keep lodgings over their unkempt heads. I loathe these things. I don’t even consider them human. They have no feelings or emotions, if they did they wouldn’t do this to themselves and then blame us, the rich and wealthy. It is not our fault.
By Sara Taylor4 years ago in Criminal
The Witch of Suicide Lake.
What is that moving in the shallows over there? It is a long, black, smooth, silhouette gliding towards my one man, wooden, blue canoe. It is getting larger and larger the body size is getting larger than my canoe, the waves trailing behind the small hump of black mass bobbing in and out of the water as it glides slowly meticulously towards my canoe, are small in comparison to the creature I am watching come ever closer. I grab for my paddle, it isn’t much, just a few feet long, but it is my only means of defense if that thing keeps coming towards me in the direction it is. It is only a few feet away and I can see nothing on the left of my canoe but the big black mass in the water unlike on the other side where I can see the rocks and shells on the bottom. The waves are getting bigger and bigger now, tossing me from side to side in my canoe, with one hand I hold the paddle tight to my chest and the other I hold the side of the canoe trying to steady myself. The last thing I want to do is fall in the water with this thing. Sweat is pooling in my shorts where I am sitting or is that water splashing in from the lake from the waves, I am not sure they are mixing together now, I can feel sweat beading on my forehead, my heart is pounding so hard in my chest, I can’t take my eyes from the thing headed my way. The sky is getting darker over head like a warning of something bad or of rain.
By Sara Taylor4 years ago in Fiction
Hello Mr. Diddles.
Mr. Diddles was the name that we gave the cat that we befriended in Romania while we were touring there as a travelling circus. He strolled into camp one evening and took up residence in the clown tent. Mr. Diddles loved to be a part of the day-to-day action and then would sit on the edge of the ring blocks and watch the show. Everyone in the circus loved Mr. Diddles. Where he came from and why no one really knows. He just kind of showed up evening. Some of the clowns were afraid to be alone in their tent with him after dark, and a couple even went so far as to quit altogether. Not sure why. Mr. Diddles never acted mean or scary in any way to anyone. I guess some people are just afraid of cats like some people are afraid of clowns or heights. Now why am I telling this story about Mr. Diddles if he is such a sweet and unassuming cat? Well, read on and you will see that all is not as it seems……
By Sara Taylor4 years ago in Fiction
The Day I Met You....
This is the story of how I met you. A story to my boyfriend about how he made me feel when we first met and how we met. On the day I met you, I thought you were the most handsome man I had seen in a long while. I wanted nothing more than to talk to you and to get your number, but me being shy and always having my resting bitch face on, I knew you wouldn’t want to get to know me at all. No one wants to get to know the woman behind the counter at the gas station with the funny shortcut hair and mean look on her face. From the Yelp! Reviews no one likes me or they think I am a bitch and a mean person who they would like to fight. They say I have a poor attitude. Not that I have a poor attitude, I just don’t like stupid and ignorant people who think they can treat me anyway they like and talk to me anyway they like and expect me not to give them the same in return.
By Sara Taylor4 years ago in Humans
Security
I love my job because I get to help people and get to keep people safe. As a security supervisor I always manage two security officers, and I secure three buildings of over seven hundred employees. I take care of employees with injuries and if there is an emergency. Sometimes my job is stressful but most of the time it is easy, and I get to watch cameras. I do not have too much interaction with the employees because by the time I come to work the employees are getting ready to go home. My hours are from 3 pm to 11pm, so most of my time is sitting watching cameras. I do have to patrol the buildings looking for leaks and emergencies and safety concerns.
By Sara Taylor4 years ago in Confessions
