Cassandra Durnin

“Beyond The Storm” by Cassandra Durnin

-The title actually was found off of the title generator. Enjoy.-     I don’t know what it is, or what to say. There’s a feeling rattling around my chest like shoes in the dryer; over, around, back again. And then back again, over, and around. It’s not bad, these chunky tennis shoes slowly denting the inside of my soul. But it’s not exactly comfortable, either.      Ma always said that tea...

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“Manual” by Cassandra Durnin

Please note that this story does not follow the prompt in the slightest. Let’s play a game, you and I. And you’re probably thinking that it’s incredibly stupid to play a game with words on a screen or sheet of paper, but let me tell you something. I could not care less about what you think. Let's play, shall we?     Now, if I told you to create a place in your head...

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“Fever Dream” by Cassandra Durnin

Submitted to Contest #91

It started as a question. A laughing, offhand question. Did you know the answer? A whisper from behind the shelf tells you no. Your hand lingers on the hard, not-quite-wood of a book’s spine, then switches to brush against the not-quite-plastic of the library shelf. Everything here is brimming with life, yet somehow just as stony and silent as those you cast the question upon. The shelves have no eyes, but they watch yo...

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“The Conductor's Intent” by Cassandra Durnin

Submitted to Contest #88

Note: This is an older piece, but I didn’t have the energy to spin a new one this week. Feedback is appreciated, and please pardon this one for not being as up to par. It very loosely fits the prompt. [Please listen to Opening, by Craig Armstrong while reading] It had just been this quiet, low melody following her. Through the market, through the alleys, along the canal, everywh...

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“Hades” by Cassandra Durnin

Submitted to Contest #86

The time could not possibly move quick enough. Every day dragged on, and on, and on. No sun, no light, nothing but the agony of the Pit and the same movement of shades passing by. Things were so unchangingly monotone, and it made him wonder how he’d ever gotten by without knowing anything else. How had he stayed under, twisting steel and bone into an empire? How had he not known what lay above him, just over the red-hot...

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“Reedsy Petition” by Cassandra Durnin

DOWN WITH THE DOWNVOTING! *Copied from ◦•●◉✿ 𝓑𝓵𝔁𝔁𝓲𝓲 ✿◉●•◦* Copy and paste to spread the message (with signature). Dear Reedsy, I've emailed you endless and endless times, however, you ignored. I NEED you to reply, please. It's all about downvoting. "Oh, this is just a thing about downvoting, B-O-R-I-N-G!" And skip. This is an important message, Reedsy. My friend Ari Reynes, has been downvote...

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“Museum” by Cassandra Durnin

Submitted to Contest #85

Dear Laura, There are many things that words can’t seem to express. Loss is one of them, isn’t it? We make up all these words to go with emotions, and some spin colors into their work, calling sorrow blue, grey, or even black. It’s transformed into the missing piece, a form of emptiness, and I suppose that’s true. Nobody could do this awful feeling justice, but I’ll be damned if I won’t try. Besides, the therapist said it might be good to write. She told me not to write to you. Ha! I used one of my many skills, and ...

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“Of Salt and Sand” by Cassandra Durnin

Submitted to Contest #83

Of Salt and Sand Your head finally, finally breaks the surface, with strong hands grabbing you by the underpits, half-throwing half-pulling you onto a wet, latex-like surface. The darkness swarms like a flock of angry crows, and everything burns with an icy cold.  Your chest sparks to life in a rage of coughing, water streaming from your open mouth, and with it, the awful taste of salt and bile. There’s salted water in your eyes, and you have no clue who pulled you out, but none of that matters, none of it matte...

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“Ophelia” by Cassandra Durnin

Submitted to Contest #79

Trigger Warning: Suicidal ideation. Please only read if you’re in the right headspace to do so.   It was almost, almost a painting. The cobblestone bridge held steady over the river, its only companions a mess of grassy reeds and the willow tree. But the willow was an especially vital part of this scene. It was gnarled, and watercolor textures had painted themselves onto its bark, a mosaic of soft browns and woody undertones. With low-hanging branches and roots that spilled over the r...

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“Persephone” by Cassandra Durnin

Submitted to Contest #75

Carelessly, she picked her way through the graveyard, placing spiteful flowers in the hands that outstretched to touch her. With a smile, she sidestepped the skeletal grasps, playing a wondrously infuriating game with the man she might’ve loved. She wouldn’t let them drag her back. Not yet. After all, she still had a week or so, the frost teasing and taunting her wilting blossoms. It was beautiful, in it’s strange, froze...

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“Three Words Unspoken” by Cassandra Durnin

Submitted to Contest #75

It was late, the city finally starting to sleep. Streetlights flickered here and there, and things of the day had died down, giving the Night her chance. His chance of another target. However, things were looking grim, nobody around for him to… finish. The darkness didn’t help, wrapping him in a cloak of anger, making the gin on his lips burn hotter, burn faster. Half the glass was gone, enough to warm him, but not so much that it would hinder his deed, a careful precaution. But after wandering the streets frustrated and cold, he almos...

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“A Hopeless Step Forward” by Cassandra Durnin

Submitted to Contest #70

“No! I can’t- I won’t let you do this to yourself!” She stared at him, some part of her brain vaguely wondering why he was so upset. They’d worked toward a cure their whole lives, hours spent in school, then university, then their lab. Every waking hour had been dedicated to finding a solution to a problem that could not be solved, and here he was, stopping her from taking the last little step. ...

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