Novel Allen
Bio
You can only become truly accomplished at something you love. (Maya Angelou). Genuine accomplishment is not about financial gain, but about dedicating oneself to activities that bring joy and fulfillment.
Achievements (10)
Stories (1105)
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Poor Jeremiah Horrocks
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. Who was that young and tortured soul staring back at me from the depths of the now misshapened and distorted mirror. I jumped back in horror at the awful look of pure hatred which, upon it's visage had been clearly written a long time ago. So intense were the deep lines around it's eyes, one could only think of a tree which had stood for hundreds of years.
By Novel Allen3 years ago in Fiction
The Devil came in Triplicate
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. The occupants of the Mary Magnalena Children's home were fast asleep. The old building creaked and groaned the way of many an old house. Matron was awake though, as she was on many a night, trying to make the checks and balances align just right for the continuance of the everyday activity of the old creaky building. Some days, when her bones hurt, she felt just as old and decrepit as the faithful walls that gave the poor children a safe place to call home.
By Novel Allen3 years ago in Fiction
Monster Car
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. This is gonna sound crazy, but I was a car. An honest to goodness flaming pink and black, angry shimmering racing car, glaring back at me as myself from the mirror. The twin engines were revving loudly and sounded totally pissed off and the car ready to run me over. Yet how can I possibly run myself over. Was I me, and my alter ego a car. Can we both exist at the same time, as two separate entities?
By Novel Allen3 years ago in Fiction
Do not love💞Half Lovers
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. Yet to my fractured and tormented mind, it was as real as the volcanic seething, burning blood which was hotly pumping through my veins. I could feel the fire melting my insides and singeing the vitreous fluid behind my eyelids. As my eyeballs rolled slowly down my cheeks, blood mixed with the vitreous humor and tears. I clawed at my face, moaning and whining like a frightened inconsolable child. Thankfully, sweet relief overcame me, as I fell to the floor in a stupor.
By Novel Allen3 years ago in Fiction
