Shelby Larsen
Bio
Spinner of Fractured Fairy Tales
Drawn to justice, buried truths, and the silence between the lines
Stories (66)
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Fire and Ice Both Burn
1998 Only silence filled the drive home. The man clenched his jaw, eyes fixed on the road, but even the icy air from the open window couldn't clear the heavy fog in his chest. The woman stared down at the hospital band on her wrist. The empty car seat sat in the back, a silent and haunting weight. He had clicked off the radio the minute they had gotten into the car as if he was going to speak. He did not.
By Shelby Larsen4 years ago in Fiction
Cold
TW: Rape, self-harm He can’t help but get on you in the middle of the night. He knows you’re not okay. He knows you can’t handle this right now. It’s nearly two o’clock in the morning though, and you’re sleeping peacefully beside him. Your nearly naked body is so close, so warm. You’re asleep on your stomach, and your long blonde hair is strewn across a pillow. He touches it; it’s soft and damp. The subtle scent of your conditioner wafts up to him. He wants you. Later, he rolls back over, and you know he’s pretending to be asleep. You get up and put on a t-shirt before going to the bathroom. You splash cold water on your face, clean yourself up. By the time you come back, his breathing is deep. His snoring starts back up. He’s asleep. You crawl back into bed and curl up into a tiny ball on the right side, shivering – only partly from the cold.
By Shelby Larsen4 years ago in Viva
We, Women. Top Story - December 2021.
Friday, 11:43pm We stumble out of bars, laughing. The bouncers tossing us out glare at us until we stumble down to the streets. We try to gain composure momentarily. Once the doors slam shut, however, we flip off the bars and burst out laughing once again. Tears streaming down our faces, we tell one another not to jump up onto the stages next time.
By Shelby Larsen4 years ago in Viva
Rumpelstiltskin Returns
The castle was empty. Only the occasional servant seen, dressed in black. Certain portraits on the walls shielded with darkened curtains, as tradition dictates. Mourners poured across castle grounds in lines of ebony, onyx, jet, raven - so many shades of black. Veiled women dabbed at their watery eyes. Men walked with their heads hung low. Only footsteps and the occasional sniffle echoed through the town as the citizens returned to their homes. Even the children were unrealistically silent. Several carriages carried off the important, the elderly, and those from lands far, far away.
By Shelby Larsen4 years ago in Fiction
The Girl in the Basement
Small drops of water hit the pages of the book in my lap. Choosing to again ignore them, I continued rereading the same paragraph I had been working on for the last hour. Continuously I found myself brushing my long golden hair back behind my shoulders. The bare lightbulb swung ever so slightly on its string above me, causing the dark shadows in the basement to continually change.
By Shelby Larsen4 years ago in Fiction
