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First I must premise this by saying it is an LGBTQ+ story. It is not graphic. But a story none the less. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think.Apache Moon by Michael PetersonBack then the love between same-sex people was taboo and almost outlawed. One could be beaten to death or tried for crimes that we're not committed simply under the suggestion of a sexual perversion. For those of us...
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Showing posts with label Short story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Short story. Show all posts
The Waiting Room - short story
The Waiting Room by Michael PetersonIt was a fun, beautiful summer day. My friend Stephine and I were driving along. Listening to music, laughing, and just enjoying life. In love with life but not each other. A rare platonic relationship between a man and woman. We were goofy and silly. People always made the assumption that we were together. But she had a husband and kids, and I had a proclivity...
The Screaming Forest
The Screaming Forest by Michael PetersonIn a land enveloped by darkness stands a forest that the people of the land stay far from. They say it was cursed by dark magics long ago. An army of twelve thousand soldiers, were commanded by King Rhinehart to invade the neighboring kingdom of Drask. The Draskan people heard of this invasion that was to come from Rhienhurst and sent their army of twelve...
The Voice - Short Story
The Voice by Michael Peterson A man tired from his day, wary of spirit and needing solace embarked into the wilderness. There he sat himself next to a creek. Around him the voice of the forest spoke. The chattering of chipmunks, the song of the birds. The ebb and flow of the wind rustling in the trees as the earth breathed. He sat for along while in silence and in awe. It was a place he...
The player - shot story
The Player by Michael Peterson 10/21/21A vagabond stood on the corner, dirty and unkempt. All his worldly possessions in an old rucksack next to his old faithful black dog. Not rich by societal standards, but rich in heart and soul. From an old battered and beaten case, his calloused hands withdrew an old violin. As he tuned the strings and rosin the bow. His dog laid down, and looked upward...
