Ashley Wrigley
Bio
The truth can be covered by words of fiction and rhyme. However, if you dig deep enough to the core you might be amazed what truths you will find inside.
Achievements (1)
Stories (11)
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Drum of the Door. Honorable Mention in A Knock at the Door Challenge.
I thought I was alone, but the drum of the door is loud in the quiet. My ears must pardon as it is not the door's fault. What a wooden beauty. Deep red and polished it stands locked and latched to the frame. It almost allows a person to stare at it all day, get blissfully lost, and call themselves an art enthusiast. Almost. Oh how that door has saved me. So many times that pounding of the drum has come and gone, sticks of great force and human flesh. Yet I have remained safe inside. However, this instance has the little hairs on my back trying to flee. No three knocks separated by a short intermission, no knocking in a combination, no secret knock, no single confident knock, and no muffled screaming to get my attention. This time the order is horrendous, and the hits dramatically increase and decrease in intensity with no tell. Why are they not aborting this attempt? I tiptoe over to the wooden beauty. It is as if the door is unsteady and pushing itself farther from me, and my heart can't take the pace. What lurks beyond?
By Ashley Wrigley4 months ago in Fiction
The Floors of My Mind
Too many people in an area designed only for a few. As a ball-like feeling claws its way up my throat, the skin from my arms stick to parts of the torso where they meet in my sleeves. TEN. All of my senses are not getting along. My eyes are playing tricks where one must follow the other. I wish for a mask as I smell the cloud of perfume and body odor and wonder which is mine. I comfort myself by leaning against a corner that I know has been touched by many other's backends. NINE. I can hear the clicks from a nearby phone, a sniffle, a nervous tap of a shoe, and a huff and puff... Oh lord, please blow this down! If I could hear smiles, the silence would be one of concern. EIGHT. There it is... the ball has found its way to the top of my esophagus waiting to be forced right back down, just to fight yet again for a view. SEVEN. How the living nightmare are we not there?! How can a single minute feel like so much more?! SIX. My fingers find their way to the back of my shoulders where they uneasily meet my tense neck. My chiropractor has jokingly said, "If you get any more knots, they'll never get untied." I did not believe it was all that amusing. FIVE.
By Ashley Wrigley2 years ago in Fiction
Goblet of Mercy
They picked me out of a bunch, took me in, gave me a home. They spoke of pristine promises and light without the flame. I forged their every move, worshiped them, drained for them. I did as much as my human flesh could endure. As I laid upon my king's lap, tired and brittle, I drank from the goblet of mercy. The next day I am to be destined as more than this vessel; I am to be a queen.
By Ashley Wrigley3 years ago in Fiction
