Mackenzie Davis

Joined August 2022

128 stories

Bio

Most stories are reverted to Drafts, but will keep up resources & posts that hold community significance. May drop in for tips or updates.

My love & gratitude to you all.

It's time to pivot.

Boycott ALL A.I. \ Copyright Mackenzie Davis

Achievements (21)

Stories (128)

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Debating the Snow
Previous storms had buried the block. This one dusted that carnage in twenty minutes flat. “I need to go!” I yelled. Acrid rubber. Squealing.
By Mackenzie Davis3 years ago in Fiction
She Pantomimed "Be That Over There"
Carly. Clara. Clary. Carla. I kick off the shoes easily and hop over the bathroom threshold. God. I look like a construction cone. My orange hair flies to a whispered heap beside the toilet.
By Mackenzie Davis3 years ago in Fiction
The Night of White Umbrellas. Top Story - June 2023.
This street often speaks. On the night of the white umbrellas, many voices made their way to me. But I did not listen, for their shadows swallowed them before I could. Street lamps became my saving grace. And I watched the voices. I never stopped until the dawn came and I could see them no more.
By Mackenzie Davis3 years ago in Fiction
Grapefruit as Fatherly Love. Runner-Up in Father's Footprint Challenge.
They take work. I’m standing behind the counter where my father peels a white grapefruit. He sections them according to their lines and continues to peel until they are no longer enveloped in the transparent casings and white ribbon. This debris he collects into a pile beside the cutting board.
By Mackenzie Davis3 years ago in Men
To Regain. Honorable Mention in Poetry of the Hunt Challenge.
In the empty space In the soft, still forest Howled the wind lace Howled the breath gust. - In the still, soft forest I hunted for my shadow.
By Mackenzie Davis3 years ago in Poets
Land O' the High Endeavor
She is inching to the ground in a swan dive and all she can think is that it wasn’t suicide—that it isn’t suicide. Then she questions how verb tense changes when a death is in progress.
By Mackenzie Davis3 years ago in Fiction
Chronicling Consciousness From the Bottom of Green Mountain
I sit on a white bench wondering could I see this mountain if the grass didn’t move? without motion, I am blind, (I ask why of movement and receive stillness in reply, perceive that my voice holds no echo)
By Mackenzie Davis3 years ago in Poets
When I Made Stars Cry
Who was this girl who ran waiting in the shadow? I watched her from my window. A street of darkness pooled below, but she shone as she ran(, and she ran for miles, clear as a star.)
By Mackenzie Davis3 years ago in Poets