Diane Foster

Joined December 2024

234 stories

Bio

I’m a professional writer, proofreader, and all-round online entrepreneur, UK. I’m married to a rock star who had his long-awaited liver transplant in August 2025.

When not working, you’ll find me with a glass of wine, immersed in poetry.

Achievements (2)

Stories (234)

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Birdsong in a Fading Sky
They say golden years, but gold rusts, doesn’t it? Or maybe it just melts, slipping through fingers like wasted time, like the minutes I spent staring at a lamp’s dull flicker,
By Diane Foster11 months ago in Poets
A Whistle in the Dark
I was a whisper, a breath between pages, a name scribbled in the margins of someone else’s story. Then you came— a constellation of fire and longing,
By Diane Foster11 months ago in Poets
The Forgotten Index
The silence breathes. Not a whisper, not a sigh, only the sound of dust settling between pages that no one turns anymore.
By Diane Foster11 months ago in Poets
A Child Lost in Midnight
I whisper to the cosmos, but the stars do not answer. They blink like tired old men, forgetting my name, forgetting I was ever here.
By Diane Foster11 months ago in Poets
Hollow House, Hollow Heart
The light spills in through broken panes, fractured beams slicing the dust-heavy air, as if trying to answer the questions
By Diane Foster12 months ago in Poets
Cinders in the Azure
Destiny was a liar, a silk-voiced trickster whispering prophecies in the dead hush of twilight, its fingers dusted in azure light,
By Diane Foster12 months ago in Poets
Fog-Cold and Distant
The trees do not speak anymore. Their branches once stretched toward me, fingers of brittle bone scratching the sky, but now they are just silhouettes,
By Diane Foster12 months ago in Poets
The Candle Knows My Name
The chair remembers. It cradles my weight like a secret, worn velvet pressing into my skin, stained with the echoes of nights
By Diane Foster12 months ago in Poets
The Language of Wax and Shadows
The candles bleed their slow, crimson sorrow, melting secrets onto the table’s blackened skin. Their tune is a whisper, a flickering hymn,
By Diane Foster12 months ago in Poets
The Perfume of Regret
The bells mock me, ringing out in delicate chimes, sounding too much like laughter, like the clinking of crystal held between gloved fingers
By Diane Foster12 months ago in Poets
The Garden Burns Beneath the Stars
The path is too quiet, too perfect, too still. Flowers shudder in the breath of night, petals trembling as if they sense
By Diane Foster12 months ago in Poets
Beneath Amber Waves
The world fractured slowly, quietly, like ice whispering beneath a winter pond. My mornings no longer began with sunlight slipping gently through half-drawn curtains but with the slow amber pour of Jack Daniels into a chipped coffee mug. One sip was survival, two, a resurrection. Without it, the weight of my bones anchored me to sheets tangled like spider webs spun from regret. I would stare at the ceiling, my eyes tracing the hairline cracks, knowing they mirrored the fissures spreading silently within my own being.
By Diane Foster12 months ago in Psyche

Diane Foster

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Stories (234)

Filter by community

Birdsong in a Fading Sky

A Whistle in the Dark

The Forgotten Index

A Child Lost in Midnight

Hollow House, Hollow Heart

Cinders in the Azure

Fog-Cold and Distant

The Candle Knows My Name

The Language of Wax and Shadows

The Perfume of Regret

The Garden Burns Beneath the Stars

Beneath Amber Waves

Achievements (2)