I'd like to share some stories with you. These are fictional pieces
I've written and range from 1,500-7,000 words in length. They consist
of many different themes and were a joy to write. It is my sincerest
hope that you find enjoyment in them as well, flaws and all!
So go make some coffee, find a little nook, and dive on in.
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A D V E N T U R E S W I T H K Y F A
Brandon Salisbury
June 10, 2014
Brandon Salisbury
June 10, 2014
There she sat, out in the green grass. The sky was perfect and the
clouds, wonderful. Great, big trees were all around the girl. They
were full of vibrant life. Little critters could be heard rustling
through the bushes nearby as the songbirds sang. The smell of lavender,
vanilla, and some sort of citrus filled the air. It was a pleasing
aroma.
Annabel spent a lot of time here; in fact, it was her favorite place to be. Her feet were bare and she was free. The cool, lush grass was soothing to her skin. She laid back into its soft embrace and gazed into the sky above as entire worlds of magical enchantment built themselves into the clouds. Their creative brilliance is surely beyond ours. She could see puppies and kittens in them. They also held the faces of people she knew and even places she had been. Her home was there, too... a not so distant memory.
She breathed it all in. Annabel was safe here - secure. She began to swoosh her arms and legs through the heavy blades of grass as one might when making an angel in the snow. There wasn't a care in the world to concern herself with in this place. Fascination gripped her mind and her imagination was the one thing it needed: permission to explore. No one could take this away from her, and harsh words literally could not be heard. It was as close to perfect as perfection could be for an eight-year old girl.
Annabel began to hum a tune into the air. It was a song that she and her father had created. She wasn't worried about singing the words because the melody alone was able to fulfill its duty. But as she lay there, restful and at peace, there came a sound from the trees. A stick had been snapped. She turned her head to look, but the tall grass blocked her vision. Sitting up just slightly, she rested herself onto her elbows. "Kyfa?" she asked. "Is that you?" There was no response. Now sitting fully upright, she called again. "Hello? Who's there?" But still, there was nothing.
Annabel spent a lot of time here; in fact, it was her favorite place to be. Her feet were bare and she was free. The cool, lush grass was soothing to her skin. She laid back into its soft embrace and gazed into the sky above as entire worlds of magical enchantment built themselves into the clouds. Their creative brilliance is surely beyond ours. She could see puppies and kittens in them. They also held the faces of people she knew and even places she had been. Her home was there, too... a not so distant memory.
She breathed it all in. Annabel was safe here - secure. She began to swoosh her arms and legs through the heavy blades of grass as one might when making an angel in the snow. There wasn't a care in the world to concern herself with in this place. Fascination gripped her mind and her imagination was the one thing it needed: permission to explore. No one could take this away from her, and harsh words literally could not be heard. It was as close to perfect as perfection could be for an eight-year old girl.
Annabel began to hum a tune into the air. It was a song that she and her father had created. She wasn't worried about singing the words because the melody alone was able to fulfill its duty. But as she lay there, restful and at peace, there came a sound from the trees. A stick had been snapped. She turned her head to look, but the tall grass blocked her vision. Sitting up just slightly, she rested herself onto her elbows. "Kyfa?" she asked. "Is that you?" There was no response. Now sitting fully upright, she called again. "Hello? Who's there?" But still, there was nothing.
