Heather Mayson

“So terribly cold...” by Heather Mayson

It was so terribly cold.  Snow was falling and it was almost dark. How could the words that opened a fairy tale could so accurately describe my world in this moment?  The forest spread out before me, the treetops doing next to nothing to prevent the snow from reaching the forest floor.  What had I done to deserve this?  What could I have possibly done in my entire life to earn to be abducted from my bed and plopped in the forest?  I had no bedroll, no boots, to guard against the cold.  I had my flint –that was...

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“Letting Go...” by Heather Mayson

It had proven to be another chilly mid-winter morning. And yet again she had woken up in her bed –alone–and shivering. Adam had been next to her the night before, his too-skinny, tattooed body trying to keep her warm, making her feel safe –safer than she had the right to feel. Adam had always been a bad kid, getting into trouble, getting arrested more often than he should. He had wanted –no, needed–help and his bad behavior kept interfering. Emily pulled the thin sheet up over her shoulders, her ears turned towards t...

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“Ariadne's Heart” by Heather Mayson

Ariadne watched as Theseus lingered by the labyrinth gate. Her chest tightened as her heart pounded beneath her ribcage. A bead of sweat slid down her forehead and over her right cheek. Would the Athenian youth find the twine and the sword she had hidden for him? The uncertainty did not help calm her nerves; it only made it worse. She had so much hope riding on his success–that he would be able to do what he had boasted to her in private. Could he defeat the Minotaur? She had trusted the tributes who had go...

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“Theseus and the Labyrinth” by Heather Mayson

Footsteps pounding on the stairs woke Theseus from his slumber. Around him, his fellow Athenians groaned themselves awake. Sleep had taken him far away from the island of Crete and the doom that waited for him and his fellow tributes. His dreams had taken him back to his grandfather’s household before he had set out for Athens to claim his rightful place at his father’s court. He had been spending his day training with the weapon’s master. The stern man had praised him then dismissed him to his mother’s charge. ...

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“The Mask of Dionysus” by Heather Mayson

I can hear the hum of chatter on the other side of the wall. A high-pitched laugh echoes above those voices. Anticipation of the events about to unfold before them is heavy, thick like the humidity in the air. And excitement, it vibrates through the body. They have waited long enough for what they are about to see. Am I ready? Do I know the words? Will I remember the lines? Do the mortals in their theatre seats know that even gods can forget sometimes? Will they blame the madness? The ecstasy...

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“Love In Asgard” by Heather Mayson

“Listen to the story I have on the edge of my lips,” the storyteller said with a smile as he waltzed from one end of the stage to the other. “I could promise you romance, misadventure, or a tale that we all could scarcely believe. My story begins with the god Hermes performing his duties for the Rich One himself…” The god of thieves found himself at the door of a small house located at the outer edge of Athens, waiting for the poor soul inside to take his last breath. With a groan, he peered inside the window, letting his ...

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“Scarlet” by Heather Mayson

The crackling of wood under fire brought Scarlet out of his slumber. The outlaw pushed himself into a sitting position, his wearing eyes glancing to the empty spot on his left. Once again he had come awake in a damp cave without a lover by his side. Before he had taken to Sherwood, he would have complained each morning that he had gone to be alone. Here in the forest, not a soul did a thing alone, not even take a piss. A part of him missed the days before the Sheriff of Nottingham had put a price on his head as the j...

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“Eyes of Red” by Heather Mayson

I had lived in Point Pleasant for nearly a decade now, yet I still felt like an outsider. My neighbors were as polite as could be, but I would never call any of them my friend. I’m sure they could say the same about me given the chance. I was just some big city girl. More times than I could count I had overheard them whisper things about me. It was just another reminder that I didn’t fit here. Not that I wanted to fit in here. I couldn’t say that I fit into New York City, and I had lived there my entire lif...

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“Broken Wings” by Heather Mayson

It seemed that within a heartbeat those green leaves on the trees had started to turn shades of brown, orange, and yellow. But barely a few had started to fall off their branches. No doubt that with the next rainstorm that would change, if a windstorm didn’t do the job first. Emma would enjoy the beauty while it lasted, admiring the leaves as each one continued to change and break away from their parent tree. From time to time, she would pass a solitary leaf on the stone path outside her house and study the veins as they ...

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“The Woodsman and the Wolf” by Heather Mayson

Submitted to Contest #105

The frost lingering longer in the mornings let me know that winter was closing in on us yet again. I liked to blame the frost for my aching bones, for my need to linger under the covers next to my wife’s warm body. I had worked out in the woods all my life. I was used to the toll of being a woodsman. Never once did I think to blame the stiffness in my shoulders or my back on my advancing years. I would drop dead wielding an ax if it pleased God. A gentle laugh beside me served as a reminder that I had yet to rise f...

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“A Night Out” by Heather Mayson

Submitted to Contest #104

“Are you coming tonight?” she asked me for the second time in the last five minutes.Had she not heard me the first time? I’m not the one who changed their minds within the span of a heartbeat, not like Clarice. I was the one standing in our shared bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror, trying to put eyeliner on. I had an unsteady hand sometimes –and Clarice knew it—and the last thing I needed was my roommate asking me to answer the same question I had answered only a few moments ago. If I didn’t answer her soon, she w...

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“The Book Attic” by Heather Mayson

Submitted to Contest #103

The clouds gathering in the east had grown darker in the past few hours, just another spot of gloom on an already gloomy day. Or an ill omen for things to come, perhaps. It had been so lovely that morning with the sun peeking out from behind a white, fluffy cloud, but by noon, a storm had formed to put a damper on a promising day. Peter tried to keep the frown at bay as he pulled his coat closer to his body as he continued his journey past a series of boarded-up buildings, and the temperature had yet to turn chilly.  Ar...

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“Garden of Roses” by Heather Mayson

Submitted to Contest #102

I always passed the house on the corner on my way to school. It stood out because no other house on our street had a fence around the entire property. The fence was made of brick and steel posts, giving everyone who passed by a glimpse of the owner’s immaculately kept front yard. For as long as I can remember, I never saw anyone in the yard tending to the flowers. Though there were different kinds of plants throughout the yard, whoever owned the house had more rose bushes than any other kind of flower, and the roses were ...

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“No Mirrors on the Wall” by Heather Mayson

Submitted to Contest #101

The only evidence that there had ever been a mirror in her room was an empty frame hanging on the wall across from the window. Even the glass in the window had been removed so she could not see her reflection at night. She had been beautiful once, or so everyone told her, but she was ugly now. A bear attack had left her with a scar that stretched from above her right eye, across her nose, and ending below the left side of her lip. Luckily, the castle’s garrison had been honing their skills near where she had been playing,...

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“Dinner” by Heather Mayson

Submitted to Contest #100

A combination of smells teased his nose: freshly baked bread mixed with the aroma of mushrooms and onions sautéing on the stove. From outside, a hint of smoke drifted inside, bringing with it the flavor of the steak being charred on the barbeque. It had been a long time since a family meal had been prepared within these walls –some might argue it had been too long since they had come together as a family. The smells nearly made Nick forget the reasons why they had not gotten together in nearly a decade.  But Father was dy...

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