Stephanie L. Moreau
Bio
Just a girl trying to make magic in a world that's forgotten.
Stories (4)
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Childers Grove
I stood atop of the bluff above the sea. The mist rolled off the ocean mixing with the smoke from the wildfires. None of the rays from the setting sun seemed to penetrate its wall. The sky was turning an eerie orange. What should’ve been a hot August evening was growing cold and a chill set in on my skin as I watched the mist and smoke curling.
By Stephanie L. Moreau6 months ago in Fiction
Resurrection Bay
Three hours later, about twenty-five percent of the boat had thrown up due to the rough waves and the weather was quickly worsening. I was down thirty dollars in my bet with Clark of how many wedding guests would get sick in the first half of the tour. We’d just finished serving lunch. I’d stolen myself away from the galley for a short break to scarf down the marinated chicken wrap that Clark had “artistically designed” – his words – for the lunch hour.
By Stephanie L. Moreau4 years ago in Fiction
Resurrection Bay
Sunday finally reared its head, and the late August morning was wet and foggy. Not an ideal time to take a boat ride. But the newly married couple and their entire wedding party descended upon the Kenai Fjords cruise company and departed from Resurrection Bay.
By Stephanie L. Moreau4 years ago in Fiction
The gardener's daughter
I remember the first time I saw the fruits of his labor, and it made me want to cry. I tried to pretend they would be tears of joy, that maybe it was a sign he was looking down on me; watching out for me, sending me this message that he was still here. But I couldn’t bring myself to feel anything at first. The sadness and emptiness that raked my body made me want to tear it apart, bark from flesh. Snap its arms like the twigs that they were.
By Stephanie L. Moreau4 years ago in Fiction
