Achievements (15)
Stories (932)
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Break Up
And so he said "I don't want to be with you anymore" and I said "Why?" and he said "Because I don't think it's working" and I said "Is there someone else?" and he said "No" but he didn't know that I'd seen him with her from his work so I knew he was lying and so I said because I didn't want him to win and feel like he was the one who had all the control "Well, I have. Been seeing someone else" and he said "You fucking what?!"
By Rachel Deemingabout a year ago in Fiction
The Queen of Despair
"The moon is rising, Dara! We need to go!" Dara was so tired. They had been running for days and the weariness made her leaden. She didn't feel like she could move anymore. It was too hard. What were they running for anyway? They were doomed. There was nothing they could do to stop the Queen...
By Rachel Deemingabout a year ago in Fiction
The Agoraphobic. Content Warning.
She went to the window. Close enough. Breathe. She was safe in here. She loved birds. Flitting to feeders. They weren't her feeders; Gary at number 5 topped them up. A sympathetic neighbour. He knew she liked to watch them, entertainment in a dull day.
By Rachel Deemingabout a year ago in Fiction
The Teddy Bears' Picnic
"Looking forward to the picnic today?" Rupert's mum asked Rupert's dad. Rupert was excited. It was the event of the year when every bear that ever there was will gather there for certain because today's the day the teddy bears have their picnic. Rupert hummed the tune in his head.
By Rachel Deemingabout a year ago in Fiction
What the Dickens...?
It was a bitter night. Wind penetrated the house, making it gasp and groan, windows rattling in fear of shattering. She sat meditatively in the red wingback chair, the fire's blaze warming and scorching. She was exhausted and grateful for the chance to stop. She could not fully relax though, the storm pulling at her consciousness, as the logs spit. She picked up her knitting.
By Rachel Deemingabout a year ago in Fiction
The Artful Dodger
I'm good at what I do, I am. See that geezer over there with the cane? He'll have a silk handkerchief in his top pocket and I'll have that away in a trice! He won't even know it's gone until he'll go to look for it later and it won't be there. It'll be stashed away by then with the others I've nicked from these la-di-da gents!
By Rachel Deemingabout a year ago in Fiction
