Rachel Deeming

Joined July 2021

932 stories

Bio

Storyteller. Poet. Reviewer. Traveller.

I love to write. Check me out in the many places where I pop up:

Beware of imitators.

Achievements (15)

Stories (932)

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Sal's
When George walked into "Sal's", he had no idea that he would come out with more than when he entered. The sign had drawn him:
By Rachel Deemingabout a year ago in Fiction
Driftwood
Creak. Creak. Creak. Splash. Splash. Splash. These are the sounds of my days. Creak. Creak. Creak. Splash. Splash. Splash.
By Rachel Deemingabout a year ago in Fiction
The Affair
"Are you having an affair?" The question was not unexpected. George had been simmering for days. She delivered a resolute "No."
By Rachel Deemingabout a year ago in Fiction
Death Takes A Sideswipe
I don't like thinking about death but it seems to be making its presence known to me at the moment, despite my attempting to ignore it. It's coming at me from all angles and I view its presence like trying to get past an angry cat as it tries to sideswipe me with its claws. I'm not getting hit but it's coming close.
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Longevity
Eleanor's Tree
Eleanor needed to think. The burdens of life were encroaching on her and their squatting was cluttering her mind. She felt sluggish and hindered and needed to break free of that restrictedness somehow.
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
The Street Artist
"Have you heard? That bloody Banksy's been up to it again!" An old lady in front of Danny in the queue was pointing to her newspaper while the cashier nodded sagely in time to the scanner's "Beep!"
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
The Butterfly
The orangery was full of mist, artificially created to moisten the rainforest plants towering over her. Here, she was calm and able to think.
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
The Brush Off
When Marcel asked Paula "Let's eat together one night," she'd expected a restaurant and not his maisonette. They'd been on a few drinks' "dates" prior although he had never kissed her, which she found unusual for a French man, though he seemed benign.
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
Origami Swan
I am an origami swan Abandoned in the window. Unseeing, I sit, waiting to be remembered. I once was fair, transformed From flatness, I was made
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Poets
Music - The Food of Love
"I don't know how to reach her." Dean was upset after visiting the home. He had sat, talking, filling the vacuum. Next to him, in a chair designed to keep her upright, like a vinyl throne, was a woman, shrunken and whiskery, narrow shouldered with big slippers and white, untamed hair. Insipid green was everywhere in the home - walls, uniforms, crockery - designed to make it feel like an inviting environment, tranquil and calming.
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
If tomorrow starts without me
If tomorrow starts without me It's going to be okay. I can't be here forever; Life doesn't work that way. But know that even though
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Poets
Riot! Aftermath
The day after the riot, Billy woke feeling heavier, in heart and head, and very hungry. He got up, trudged to the kitchen. No sign of Darren. Relieved, he went to the fridge. No milk. Went to the bread bin. No loaf. Nothing to eat. He should get some, from the shop.
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction