Annie

Joined May 2022

38 stories

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Single mom, urban planner, dancer... dreamer... explorer. Sharing my experiences, imagination, and recipes.

Stories (38)

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Unknown Number
DISCLAIMER | Do not read if you plan to watch the documentary "Unknown Number: The High School Catfish" as there may be spoilers.
By Annie5 months ago in Psyche
The Last Voyage
In the shipyards of 1916, the HMS Valerian first touched water with a gleaming hull and a purpose shaped by war. She was no battleship, no mighty dreadnought, but a small, sturdy Arabis-class sloop built for the endless, unsung work of the Royal Navy: escort duty, minesweeping, protecting convoys from the silent menace of submarines.
By Annie5 months ago in Humans
The Beauty of the Broken
Though I’ve always loved to read, I rarely find the time to do it purely for pleasure. For too long, my library card sat collecting dust, despite my love of spending time in the community library's dim corners surrounded by shelves heavy with history. The library where I live is no ordinary one either; it was designed by the famed New York firm Carrère and Hastings, with construction completed in 1903. Its Beaux-Arts architecture lends the space warmth and romance, a sense that every book is cradled in the echoes of another century. But I digress. One of the most memorable books I’ve read lately, spurred on by anticipation for the author’s newest release, was We Begin at the End by Chris Whitaker—a novel that lingers like a meal both nourishing and heavy, impossible to forget.
By Annie5 months ago in BookClub
Skin Deep
I wake in the dark, my skin damp against unfamiliar sheets. The ceiling above me is a smudge of shadow, indistinct, as if painted over by someone careless. My breathing is shallow, uneven, and the silence in the room feels so loud it buzzes. I reach for the comfort of orientation—something familiar, a lamp or a clock but my arms fall heavily, unsupported by any object. I am not at home.
By Annie5 months ago in Confessions
Love Everlasting
I think my belief in love may have been revived, which is as frustrating as it is encouraging. For a long time, I found it easier—safer even—to believe that true love didn’t really exist. Convincing myself that “fairy tale love” was a myth allowed me to feel as though I wasn’t missing out on anything other couples seemed to have. I could shrug off the Instagram-perfect relationships, the romantic anniversaries, and the declarations of “soulmates forever” without feeling a sting of envy. In fact, I had become quite content in my solitude. I had made peace with loneliness, treating it not as a punishment, but as a quiet companion.
By Annie5 months ago in Humans
Silent Symphony
She was alone, and lonely. Clara sat lost in thought at a corner table in her favorite little cafe. She slowly sipped her latte, her eyes tracing the patterns of steam rising from the cup. The cozy ambiance and gentle hum of chatter had always been her refuge from the world's chaos. Today was no different. She craved distance from her work environment and the incessant phone calls and texts. She was needed, but in a utilitarian way. She mostly felt invisible. Sometimes she wanted to actually be invisible.
By Annie2 years ago in Fiction
Flicker
The pounding in her ears broke the silence. Only it wasn't really silent. Muffled in the background, screeching tires crescendoed through the crackling melody of Buffalo Springfield's "For What It's Worth." She calmly slid her foot off the gas pedal and submitted, closing her eyes.
By Annie2 years ago in Fiction
Have you Heard?
She once lamented her dog stepped on a bee The horror in her face wasn't hard to see Whilst on the stand Her ex muttered "Ain't life grand..."
By Annie3 years ago in Poets
The blunderer
She was convinced she was made as God's folly That he used her to make his work jolly Though she labored away and prayed every day
By Annie3 years ago in Poets
"It's me, hi!"...
Determined not to be a spinster, she went online to see Whether there was someone she could spend her time with joyfully She agreed to a date
By Annie3 years ago in Poets
Motherhood
Remember my love skin pressed gently on child's skin indelibly marked
By Annie3 years ago in Poets
Branded
Every now and then you haunt me. The comfort of darkness shattered by bright, blinding light. Vision, once obscured, returns
By Annie3 years ago in Poets

Annie

Bio

Stories .css-1svwz57-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-default-mute);}(38)

Filter by community

Unknown Number

The Last Voyage

The Beauty of the Broken

Skin Deep

Love Everlasting

Silent Symphony

Flicker

Have you Heard?

The blunderer

"It's me, hi!"...

Motherhood

Branded

Stories (38)