about me.

a collection of writing i've done for friends, for publications and for myself.

you can also follow me on instagram @shelleywritesstuff.

i wrote all this stuff. please don't steal it.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

the archers companion.

The sun was starting to set and she was becoming more and more anxious. She'd been tracking this deer for nearly an hour now, and it was still evading her. She hadn't eaten a proper meal in two days, just snacking on berries she found on her way. A deer this size would feed her for two weeks or so, given she set up a couple of campfires to cook all the valuable meat right away. She needed this kill. And she needed it before the sun went down. The wind died down and she climbed up to a secluded spot a little higher up off the floor. It was completely silent, nay the usual bird chatter. Finally, the creature was standing in a clearing, sunlight filtering through the trees to frame it in her line of view perfectly. She grabbed her bow, fed in her arrow, had the deer in her aim... when suddenly it leapt away.  She shoved the bow and arrow under her arm and jumped back down the forest floor. "What the fuck keeps spooking you?" she muttered under her breath. She would
Read more

lone.

She moved the scarf further over her face, protecting it from the sand and her identity from any prying eyes. They were alone in the desert for now. She estimated they had about half a days worth of water left in their canteen. Petunia stuck close to her side, her paws wobbling slightly. They had gone too long without food, or rest. But stopping and sleeping somewhere put them at risk of never waking up again. They had to keep trekking until they found water, plants… something.  Ideally not people. People meant trouble. They had to leave their last settlement due to… a stupid mistake, one she’d never be making again. Since then it’d just been her and Petunia, her golden brown sand cat, wandering the plains finding water and shelter where ever they could. Petunia was great at hunting and had kept them both well fed over the first few months. But things had slowly started to get worse.  Gangs had infiltrated the plains, pushed out of the ruined cities. They would set up camp and drain th
Read more

wandering.

It was 4am and I couldn’t sleep. It had been a night of fighting with my thoughts. Stuck between staring at the ceiling, the time on my phone, the journal tucked under my pillow. Thinking about everything. Playing it all over and over again in my mind. I was so tired. Not just physically. Mentally, emotionally. I felt like a circus tiger trapped in a cage. I needed to escape. The lamp post on the street below filtered through the blinds and made patterns across the ceiling. Every so often a car would drive by and it would distort - slats would disappear, colours would change, and then back to the same. I was sleeping on a mattress on the floor in a spare room apologetically offered to me by a friend. Boxes filled up the rest of the room - memories from old apartments that there just wasn’t the space for in this new life of theirs. Next to my bed was a holdall packed with the things I’d deemed essential: passport, money, toothbrush, phone charger. No room for anything sentimental.
Read more