Angel Whelan
Bio
Angel Whelan writes the kind of stories that once had her checking her closet each night, afraid to switch off the light.
Finalist in the Vocal Plus and Return of The Night Owl challenges.
Stories (107)
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The Gods Shall Provide
Trielsa scraped carefully at the heavy white clunch, freeing the delicate vevola plant with as little root loss as possible. In the cratered landscape of clay and dust left behind by the miners, the vevola was a precious symbol of vitality and endurance. She would plant it outside the Hall of the Ancestors, where its purple blossoms and sweet scent would help dispel the sorrow around the place.
By Angel Whelan3 days ago in Fiction
Time to Think
“Welcome, dear lady! I hope the journey wasn’t too tiresome?” Dr. O’Reilly sat behind an antique desk. Late 21st century; the multi-colored, recycled plastic design iconic of that era. It was as reassuring to his patients as the many framed diplomas on the wall behind him.
By Angel Whelan11 months ago in Longevity
The Scandal at Briarwood
Darling Flossie, How I yearn to see you again! These long weeks apart leave me wild to be once more beside the river Avon, where first we kissed. The memory of your bright eyes, golden curls bouncing like a halo, cheeks blushing as I moved closer… How can I sleep in this narrow bed alone? Feather pillows are nothing compared with your soft thighs. Cambridge is beautiful and the fellows decent enough, but how can I turn my mind to Latin and Liturgy when the swell of your breast fills my head with fancies?
By Angel Whelan11 months ago in History
Medusa. Honorable Mention in Legends Rewritten Challenge. Top Story - February 2025.
Brody took a deep breath and braced himself as the door opened. Thumping base notes and raucous laughter exploded out into the cold March air, carried on the scent of stale beer and sweaty sneakers. Perfect. Just a regular Friday partying with the boys of Theta Chi.
By Angel Whelan12 months ago in Fiction
Classified. Runner-Up in Broken Mirror Challenge.
Redacted Excerpts From The Classified Journal of Sylvia Martin Final Entry The mirror showed a reflection that wasn’t my own. After all I’ve been through, it’s almost a relief. I smashed the glass, sending a thousand versions of Not-Sylvia scattering across the bedroom carpet. I selected a wickedly sharp sliver and hid it in my dressing gown pocket. I know now what I must do… and I welcome it.
By Angel Whelan3 years ago in Fiction
