Gemma McDonald

“The Lightroom. (I couldn't get enough words for part 2 so I'm putting part 1 in here) also, I don't know how to publish a story, so this has nothing to do with the prompt.” by Gemma McDonald

"It's your turn," teacher Bedengrayne prompted. I nodded my head and shuffled forward through the archway, through transparent mists of drizzling light, and into a bright phosphorescent oval room.  The lightroom.  It isn't too big but it seemed infinite. The walls were ancient amber painted with liquid light, shining like a million diamonds all glistening at once, and there were fine leaves of french mesh hanging in spontaneous places from the low ceiling. It was ethereal and I could've stayed there forever, even though it was so b...

1 like 3 comments 3

Read story

“The Lightroom” by Gemma McDonald

"It's your turn," teacher Bedengrayne prompted. I nodded my head and shuffled forward through the archway, through the transparent mists of drizzling light, and into a bright phosphorescent oval room.  The lightroom.  It isn't too big but it seemed infinite. The walls were ancient amber painted with liquid light, shining like a million diamonds all glistening at once, and there were fine leaves of french mesh hanging in spontaneous places from the low ceiling. It was ethereal and I could've stayed there forever, even though it was ...

1 like 2 comments 2

Read story

“A Baby Blue Quilt and a Face In The Window” by Gemma McDonald

Submitted to Contest #96

"Thanks," I say as I get my keys from the receptionist. "My pleasure," he says like a Chick-fil-A employee. I pick up my bags and walk to the third floor where my room is. I get to it, unlock it, and put my bags on the floor, a rush of cold air blowing over me. The room is very pretty but has an air of forgetfulness in a way, my anxiety builds for some reason. I must have forgotten to take my pills. The room is a clover green with a wide curtained window on the wall directly across from the door, on the left side of the room, there is a tall...

10 likes 5 comments 5

Read story

“What the fuck” by Gemma McDonald

Submitted to Contest #92

Leanne swayed drunkenly, tipping her drink on my skirt."Damn it Leah!" I cried, trying to sponge off the beer with a napkin. My friend laughed behind me. "Shut up Dylan, I said, swatting him on the head," I sat back in my cosy seat, angrily. Leane stumbled over to the seat next to me and plopped down."Thgyouu know," she began, "you are annoying," she slurred. I snatched her drink. "Heyyyyyy!" she almost yelled."You can't drink this much Leah," I said, "you'll kill yourself.""That could be the point.""I don't care. If every time we go to a pa...

10 likes 5 comments 5

Read story

“Happy” by Gemma McDonald

Submitted to Contest #91

Creak, Shoof, Creak, Shoof. The sounds of filing cabinets opening and closing strangely reverberated in the small room filled with the metal organizers. I don't have OCD, I don't. I tried to convince myself, as I religiously wrote down each and every single moment of my waking day in folders, keeping them in large filing cabinets never to be seen again. It wasn't like I had a choice, the feeling of impending doom leered over me watching what I did, ready to snap me in half with its strong jaws if I did one thing wrong. So I worked. And work...

12 likes 6 comments 6

Read story