Hey. My name is Courtney and I've been telling stories for as long as I can remember. I hope you like them.
Hey. My name is Courtney and I've been telling stories for as long as I can remember. I hope you like them.
These are short, one-off stories that I don't feel need to be highlighted on their own. I have all kinds of little bits and pieces like this, written for all kinds of reasons - whether just to explore a concept I've been toying with or as a vehicle for a line or fun phrase I thought up, they all have their own purposes, but they may not have another place that they belong.
This is a short piece I wrote in June 2019 after a very silly worldbuilding discussion with my brothers.
The road you’re following is well-worn and well-used, but this stretch is quiet – you haven’t crossed paths with another traveller in a day and a half now. You don’t mind the quiet. The weather has been kind, warm and sunny with a cheerful breeze, and you have your mule and your terrier for company. Read More »
This was written as an assignment in a creative writing course I took in university, which focused on the use of perspective and time. In this case I had to write a scene in second person and hypothetical future tense; I later expanded that scene into the following story as part of my final portfolio for the course. Don't let the title or first paragraph fool you: this story has fairies.
You’re a healthy human being, which means that you get hungry on more or less a regular basis, just like everyone else. Every day, sometime around noon or so, you get up from the work at your desk and head to the kitchen to make lunch. And you’re a creature of habit, so it’s usually variations on a theme – a sandwich, almost always, with whichever deli meat struck your fancy last time you went to the grocery store, and lettuce or tomato (or maybe both) depending on what’s fresh. Sometimes you mix it up and opt for cucumber. On rare occasions, even fish, instead of meat. And there’s usually cheese of some kind. Read More »
This was another assignment from the aforementioned class on perspective and time. We were asked to write a scene beginning with any line from the poem The Diver’s Clothes Lying Empty by Rumi; I later extended the piece to include in my final portfolio in the class.
In the ocean there are many bright strands of something light and delicate – something you’ve never seen before, despite all your years on the water. It glows, not unlike the algae you’ve seen in distant ports and bays, but its shine is glittering white in the clear evening. It’s far more impressive than any algae you know of. Read More »
This was my final short story for that perspective and time course, and one that I really enjoy. It all came from a single thought I had written down ages ago in the ideas note on my phone: "allegedly spooky ghost fucks up, whispers your roommate's name in the dead of night when you're home alone" - I have no idea when I came up with that, but I'm so glad I finally used it.
For a while I didn’t really register the sound. A whispery noise, so low it was barely audible. At some point I got up from my desk and closed the window, thinking it might be coming from outside – the wind could make weird sounds when it passed between the old neighbourhood buildings at certain angles. But it grew a little louder over time, a little more distinct. I still didn’t notice for a while – like that saying about boiling a frog: how if you raise the temperature slowly, it won’t even notice. Read More »