Phillipa Royer

“Under the Folds of the Sea” by Phillipa Royer

The wind whistled with a screech. It banged against the boarded-up windows and doors of homes and stores, kissed the tops of the pigeon-colored clouds, and kicked up the sand on the shore. It kissed the face of little Sara. She stood on her balcony, arms crossed, staring straight in front of her at the beach. She watched as foam sprinted across the beach, the waves becoming more fervent and demanding.  "We should race it." Molly appeared next to her, leaning against the railing, letting her hair get blown in every direction. Her dress...

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“M + E” by Phillipa Royer

Submitted to Contest #62

She smeared the condensation on the window away, revealing a large field of dead grass with one scrawny tree in the middle. Stone gray clouds covered the sky, taking up all the space that they could. An occasional crow was heard somewhere in the distance. She stared out the window, eyes not revealing anything, then huffed at the glass. It fogged up immediately.  "Marianne," a deep, familiar voice called out. Marianne turned her head to see her Uncle descending the stairs. His brown hair was pulled together at the back, his gray eyes w...

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“Your Average Murder Mystery” by Phillipa Royer

Submitted to Contest #51

"Talk murder to me," Vega said, playfully jostling his friend on the shoulder. Byron Lewis looked at him with a raised eyebrow."It's family matters." Lewis replied "Besides, what do you know about murders?' Vega stirred his coffee with his plastic straw, then took a long sip. Lewis looked at his friend with annoyance until he was finished with his show."Henrietta and I watch that crime show, True Crime." Vega said "It's really gotten under our skins, and I've got to say I've picked up a few things. Rehashing what happened will let you see di...

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“Man Boss” by Phillipa Royer

Submitted to Contest #50

Ronan sat at his desk,"{| in the little closet that he called his office. The desk had a huge grease stain, his laptop, a desktop phone, and a“Man Boss” desk plate. A flickering bulb hung from the ceiling. Without it, there would be no light in the room. His eyes were squinting, he forgot his computer glasses in his car, as he looked at the screen.“Goddamn 18-19 business taxes,” he muttered to himself. 5 minutes into filing the taxes and he was sick of it. He shut his laptop and propped his legs up on the desk. It was nearing the end of the ...

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“In Deep Water” by Phillipa Royer

Submitted to Contest #43

She picked up her pen and then dropped it back down on the desk. Her forehead followed shortly after it. She didn't know how to write without seeming uncaring or emotionless. Whenever she tried to think of words "Impact", "Disruption", "Unfortunate", and variations of the 3, were the only ones that came up. This is what she deserved for writing police reports for half of her life. Speaking of which, she needed to finish writing this letter and get back to work. She had so many backed up cases to read and people to talk to. But first, she nee...

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“Do you want to hear a story?” by Phillipa Royer

Submitted to Contest #40

The first mistake I made in my life was not joining the army. Or at least that’s what my family said. My father joined the fight, my friends did too. Heck, even my sister got a factory job making bullets. It was the beginning of spring, 1947. I was 22 years old and an outcast. My parents still let me stay with them but I was made sure I was barely welcome. I remember a good 2 weeks in March when all I did was walk around my small town in Mississippi. I didn’t go to any shops or anything. I just walked around until I was tired of everyone’s l...

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“A route in Paris” by Phillipa Royer

Submitted to Contest #33

  A little boy, around the age of 8, walks hand in hand with a woman that he barely knows. Her hand grips his tightly, leaving no room for him to escape. Luckily, the boy has no such ideas. He, more or less, goes skipping around, watching other women and men walk past. The new March breeze, cool and wet, kissing his round face. The woman steers him forward as if a rope were tugging her forward. She has a goal to get to. How much she looks like his mother. Straight, brown hair, always pinned up, small blue eyes, a skeleton frame under a heav...

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