Tersa Morris
Bio
I've always had magical characters running around inside my head. Usually they come out as sculptures. On occasion, they arrive on paper.
Stories (3)
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Stories From the Sand
It had been a long time since she had given herself a good look in the mirror. She was almost afraid to see how old she had become. But there she was. Her blue eyes had faded over the years, her hair was fully white with bits of dark metallic gray strands. It hung below her shoulders. She could not recall the last time she had visited a beauty salon. There had been no reason. The laugh lines around her eyes were many and deep. She found it be ironic because there had not been much laughter from her these past few years. The lines at her mouth looked like parenthesis, containing the words she had no one to give. She was alone and weary.
By Tersa Morris5 years ago in Humans
There Once Was a Young Couple
Isn’t it funny the perceptions we create of our neighbors? We wave to them each day, engage in small talk, and casually watch over them, their homes, pets, and children without a clue who or what they are. We believe the lives we pull together of them in our heads. There is the young couple two doors down awaiting the birth of their first child. The older couple across the street who putter in their gardens, and so on. We believe the myths we contrive as fact. Never questioning that they could be more than living a typical middle-class life.
By Tersa Morris5 years ago in Criminal
Magical Caoimhe
She felt the morning air warming from the sun as she walked the familiar dirt path through the woods. Nina was trying to shake the glum feeling that had been hanging on her for months. She hoped the walk and the Spring air might help revive her soul. Not only had it been a harsh Winter, but the sad events of the past few years had worn her down. She was tired. Thoughts and memories rambled through her mind, depressing her even more. She could feel the buildup of tears coming. Nina looked up and down the path and into the surrounding woods and saw no one. It would be safe to sit somewhere and cry.
By Tersa Morris5 years ago in Wander
