Achievements (1)
Stories (59)
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Busting Balls
He had many nicknames, but usually preferred to be addressed as Red Power Ranger. My blonde-haired, blue-eyed, cherub of a brother was born the year I turned thirteen. His name was Gabriel – like the Christmas angel – and he sometimes believed he could fly.
By Holly Pheni3 years ago in Families
Ocean Therapy
The slight boy kept his head down, allowing his long curls to curtain his face. Spurning his classmates’ raucous game of Who can scare the fish? Kaleo opted not to slap obnoxiously on the glass of each exhibit they passed. They better not do that when we see her.
By Holly Pheni3 years ago in Fiction
The Painted Dragon
What I paint comes to life. It’s happened for as long as I can remember. Ever since I was in nursery school and my fingerprint penguin hopped up and waddled off the page, enchanting my classmates and alarming the teacher. She had called home immediately and my mother had come to collect me, but not before seeing with her own eyes the marvelous living painting.
By Holly Pheni3 years ago in Fiction
Extra
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Yet I hear Mother scream in frustration from down the corridor of our station. My dear parents have been at it for hours. For years. Ever since what happened to the Kline family. “I just want to go home!” I hear her sob. “It’s all because of that…that…” There was murmuring I couldn’t make out from our bedroom. A final shriek, “It’s tearing me apart inside! I can feel it!”
By Holly Pheni3 years ago in Horror
The Hot Slide
Sometimes I climb the slide, other times I tumble down and bump my head. How about you? One thing about life -- no one slides without burning their legs a little. Some days I'm singing "Here Comes the Sun" and "Sunshine on My Shoulders Makes Me Happy." 🌞 Other days I loathe the heat.
By Holly Pheni3 years ago in Motivation
When the Whistle Blows
Tweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet Kaleidoscopic colors from the stained-glass ceiling filtered onto Rae’s face as she opened her eyes. Images of clocks cast in rainbow hues stared down on her, the idols of the human collective without mouths or eyes, only hands, ever longer and more creeping. She half-anticipated them reaching down to yank her from her seat.
By Holly Pheni4 years ago in Fiction
