Shannon Hilson
Bio
Pro copywriter chasing wonder, weirdness, and the stories that won’t leave me alone. Fiction, poetry, and reflections live here.
You can check out my blog, newsletters, socials, and other active profiles via my Linktree.
Stories (24)
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The Color of Venus
They say it’s always dark at the end, but the same can almost always be said of beginnings. Starts and finishes are, after all, like mismatched twins that don’t quite get along and hate hearing how similar they are to one another. But hating something never makes it any less true, no matter how much we may wish otherwise.
By Shannon Hilson2 months ago in Fiction
The House at the End of the World
The sound the ocean makes as it cascades over the edge of the actual world into nothingness is impossible to fathom — simultaneously too loud because of the ocean’s immeasurable volume and not loud enough, as there’s nowhere for the water to land below. If you’ve been to the house at the end of the world, then you know what that sounds like. You also know that it’s impossible to describe to another living soul with any accuracy.
By Shannon Hilson2 months ago in Fiction
Fire Season
Something was very wrong with the fields in Drift City, but no one could say exactly what the problem was. What was once a fertile valley where just about every crop you could think of grew as abundantly as can be was now barren and empty. One year everything was as it always had been and the next, it was as if the fields had been heavily salted. Or as if they’d been cursed.
By Shannon Hilson2 months ago in Fiction
Satellites and Violets
Gina was old now by nearly anyone’s standards. Her face was wrinkled and her joints creaked when she moved, especially first thing in the morning or when rain was on the way. The young people she passed in the streets on the way to buy bread and vegetables from the market saw someone else’s grandmother in a tattered grey cardigan and a faded, flowered skirt — a stranger they didn’t know and couldn’t relate to.
By Shannon Hilson2 months ago in Fiction
Sky Magic
When the world was first born, every atom of every stone and tree crackled with magic — contained energy that could be accessed by anyone at any time. In fact, magic was so commonplace, no one thought anything of it when the seemingly impossible would occur. The earth was like a new battery, fully charged and capable of making just about anything happen. All it needed was a small push in the right direction.
By Shannon Hilson2 months ago in Fiction
Storm People
Someone who is truly a storm at heart has the most peculiar eyes. They’re grey and silvery like the eyes of many people, but there’s something else strange and wild behind them. Look too long, and you’ll swear you see dark, roaming clouds reflected in those eyes, not to mention a lightning flash or two. Their voices are low and melodious, like the rumbling of thunder or the crash of the ocean against the cliffs when the waves are especially treacherous — soothing, but unsettling at the same time.
By Shannon Hilson3 years ago in Fiction
Hope Wears Yellow
There are those we don’t yet know but wish to know someday. They breathe magic and fairy dust without even trying. The air becomes electric for reasons you can’t entirely identify if they happen to walk into a room when you weren’t expecting them. They sparkle. They shine. They give you the impression that if you could touch them and draw them close, your humdrum everyday life would go from black-and-white to full, living color in an instant.
By Shannon Hilson4 years ago in Fiction
Henry’s Heart
Most of us prefer to keep our hearts inside our chests, and with good reason. If you always know where yours is, you’re unlikely to misplace it when life gets a little hectic. Since your chest goes with you wherever your travels take you, so does your heart. This makes it easy for it to weigh in on all your major life decisions without your having to think too far ahead.
By Shannon Hilson4 years ago in Fiction
