Forest for the Trees
Forest for the Trees
Author: aaczostedt
Birch
The Liebster Award
Thank you to Shyla for nominating this site for a Liebster award, which celebrates new blogs. Check out her site! Great stories!
Here are the rules:
- Thank the person who nominated you and post a link to their blog.
- Display the Liebster Award on your blog.
- Share 11 random facts about yourself.
- Answer 11 questions your nominator has asked.
- Nominate up to 11 bloggers with less than 1000 followers.
- Ask them 11 new questions or the same ones you were asked.
- Let the bloggers you nominate know!
- Copy the rules into your post.
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Eleven random facts:
1. I have a certificate in Ethnobotany.
2. I cannot properly flip anyone the bird. : (
3. I am not a big horror movie fan, even though I write some creepy stuff!
4. I have a giant dog with a tiny head.
5. I have two cats that I am pretty sure are actually just enchanted stuffed animals.
6. I mostly have posted paintings on my site, but my skill is definitely in sketching!
7. Seven is my favorite number.
8. My favorite color is grey, which I prefer to spell with an E just because it looks nicer than gray.
9. I am running out of random facts.
10. I have never been good at these things.
11. Yes, indeed.
Eleven questions from Shyla:
How did you come up with your blog concept?
I love writing short stories and flash fiction, and wanted to see if there was any interest in my writing. I have a few ideas for novels floating around, so I thought a blog was a good place to start.
What inspires you to keep blogging?
The feedback, and seeing the countries on the stats map light up when I have a new visitor! So thrilling to see that someone across the world has seen something that I have posted!
What are you currently reading (or most recently read)?
I recently finished The Adventures of Kavalier & Clay, and I am midway through Bill Nye’s book on evolution.
What’s the scariest book you’ve ever read?
I read a bunch of cheesy vampire novellas when I was too young, and those stuck with me for a long time… I put garlic cloves in my windowsill. :>
Are you a night owl or a morning bird?
I can be both, but generally my favorite wake up time is around 8 or 9.
What in your life are you most proud of?
My educational endeavors.
Who is your hero?
I have so much respect for Malala Yousafzai, her book was incredible.
Do you have a phobia? If so, what is it?
No phobias, though I am a big wimp when it comes to spiders and creepy crawlies.
If you were to write the story of you, what genre would it be and why?
Definitely satire. I mock myself pretty regularly.
What is the best movie you’ve seen recently?
I really enjoyed A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night & Mad Max: Fury Road
What’s your biggest pet peeve?
The use of the word irregardless. It just means regardless!
My nominations:
“It come to me in a vision…” a view of the world from the sub-arctic.
My questions:
- Name your top 5 favorite authors! (This counts as 5 questions.)
- Name your top 5 favorite books! (This also counts as 5 questions.)
- Watermelon or werewolf?
Red
The fancy hotel room was supposed to be a treat, an exciting break from our usual routine. It was luxurious; cherry-wood paneled walls, leather couches, a decadent bar and a hot tub. This vacation from real life was going to make our happy marriage even happier.
But his smile was crystalline, his eyes shiny-flat and hard as marbles. He was cold and distant, so unlike himself. This was no second honeymoon.
We had never fought so much. The air was heavy with bitterness, dissatisfaction.
Something was wrong. The lavish surroundings seemed to mask something dark and ugly.
Something sinister.
Sickeningly sweet, saccharine poison soaking into everything we held most dear.
It all seemed unreal, distant; a nightmare set to the backdrop of heaven.
The room felt… red. Candy-apple red, crimson lips curved in a wicked smile, a trickle of fresh blood. Syrupy thick, painful, all-encompassing scarlet.
The pulse of light behind closed eyelids.
A migraine.
He had enough, and stormed out.
I expected the red to fade, and it did; the room shadowed, the lights seemed to flicker. Then I could still see it out of the corner of my eye.
Red. The outline of a man in a red, red suit.
Pulsing with malice.
It was whispering, barely audible; promises, threats, pleas, commands. Enticing lies to coerce, entrap, and smother me.
I would not look. I could not look. If I looked at it, this… thing in the shape of a man, if I acknowledged its existence, I wouldn’t be able to resist the honeyed words. How long had it been hissing these lies?
I couldn’t move. Its presence seemed to suck the air out of the room, the air out of my lungs.
I willed myself not to look.
Do not look.
The Lake House
It was Halloween, and my friends and I were staying at the lake house. It was a towering, ancient monstrosity with dark hallways and unreliable lighting that flickered ominously.
“Let’s have a séance!” one of the girls squealed, waving the Ouija board above her head.
Everyone giggled and agreed enthusiastically as they set the board on the table. The lights were turned out, candles were lit, and the group gathered around the table.
“Are you going to play?” They looked expectantly at me as I lingered near the door. I shook my head, and took another step back.
They placed their hands on the planchette, and the air in the room suddenly felt colder.
“This is a terrible idea.” I muttered, as I gathered my things. “No way. I am out.”
Threshold
It was an ordinary day. A typical Tuesday morning. I woke to the alarm, showered, dressed. Off to work. I arrived at my desk right on schedule. I hung my hat and coat, and headed to the break room for my coffee.
Generally, I keep to myself at work. I prefer not to draw attention, so I usually hurry down the hall early, before the rush, eyes on my feet to avoid any conversation. The long hallway is always buzzing with activity, but this morning it was surprisingly quiet, which caused me to look up. And I saw the door.
It was at the end of the hall, tall and skinny, painted pale yellow. I had never seen this door before. I was certain that it had not been there yesterday; I have worked in this office for seven years, and I had never seen this door.
I looked around; still no one. I continued down the hallway, staring intently at the door. It was a strange yellow, almost a sickly yellow. Why did the door seem too thin, too tall? Why hadn’t I noticed it before?
I passed the break room. Usually a small crowd gathered by the water cooler or the coffee maker, but I saw no one. It was quiet. Too quiet.
Starting to sweat, I loosened my tie, cleared my throat, never taking my eyes off the door. I was still walking slowly, but steadily towards it. For some reason, it didn’t appear to be getting any closer. The end of the hall was still a ways off. I tried to walk faster, lengthen my stride, but my shuffling feet wouldn’t cooperate.
Maybe this was a bad idea. The door was unnerving, seeming to pulsate and throb with a strange energy. I should turn back.
My reluctant feet kept moving. I tried to turn around, to look away, but it was too late. I was reaching for the knob. It was cold to the touch. I felt dizzy as I turned the handle.
The door swung open on silent hinges.
I saw only darkness.
Heart pounding, I tried to look away, to shut the door, turn around, anything, but I was trapped, gazing helplessly into the void.
I don’t know how long I stood there, resisting the urge to step over the threshold, fighting with every ounce of my being to avoid taking that step. Sweat was trickling down my face, my breath was coming in fast, harsh gasps.
A sudden flash of light blinded me, and I shielded my eyes, unsure of what to expect. As my vision cleared, I saw what lay beyond the door.
A mop. A bucket. A rickety shelf stacked with toilet paper, cleaning supplies.
I had discovered the janitor’s closet.
“Sir? Are you okay?” A man pushing a trashcan on wheels stood a few feet away, hand still on the light switch. “Did you need help finding something?”
I took a shaky breath. “Just a cup of coffee.” I shut the door. The knob seemed to tremble… or was it just my hands shaking?
Halsey
Young Gods
Greenwitch
aa czostedt 