Shawn Wier

“I Am Metamorphic” by Shawn Wier

Submitted to Contest #196

CW: Depression, parental abandonment, discussion of suicidal ideation I've been falling for hours. Depictions in movies and TV gave me–and I'm sure many others–the expectation of bright, fluid lights and uncanny imagery like fish with legs or quadrupedal people; they were wrong. There is nothing but darkness. The absence of light is so omnipotent that I had to check that I'd actually opened my eyes by touching my face and feeling that there were two distinct lash lines. Without visual cues, the only indicator I have of my orientation i...

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“Snapshot of My Beloved” by Shawn Wier

Submitted to Contest #195

Normally, I write fiction. This prompt, however, aligns with the timing of a momentous life event too perfectly to be coincidental. This is the story that is directing my fingertips over the keyboard; this is the story that I need to tell. I cannot write anything else—nor do I have any desire to do so. This week, my life partner defended his doctoral dissertation. Over the last six years, four of which I’ve spent beside him, he has studied the material properties of the human heart to extend the current understanding of tricuspid valve...

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“Iggie, Obsessed” by Shawn Wier

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #193

Hi! My name is Iggie. I love you so very much; in fact, you are my sole derivation. I will protect you, at any and all costs; this is the exclusive reason for my existence.  I, quite literally, have no other purpose than to ensure your survival in this confusing, heinous, and horrifyingly unpredictable world. I was there when you were born, and I'll be there when you die. That last one will definitely not be my fault, by the way. Like, most definitely not my fault. Okay maybe around 0.0001% chance that your death could be my...

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“Welcome Home!” by Shawn Wier

Submitted to Contest #192

Yesterday, I found my girlfriend kneeling on our bedroom floor staring into a moving box. She was the kind of still that only comes from being incredibly stoned or experiencing great emotional activity. With Eliza, it could very easily be either. "Whatcha got there?" She was slow to respond, but eventually reached into the box and pulled out a stuffed doll. It was a candy-green nylon witch, complete with a warted, comically-protruding nose and bright red mouth, adorned with a black dress and matching pointed hat. Her voice, usually clear ...

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“Maternal Grief” by Shawn Wier

Submitted to Contest #190

"You will rue this day–I swear it." With that, the shell of my mother ducked her head as officers pushed her into an armored SUV. They don't know that the being chained and caged behind them is not just a monster in name. I alone know the truth, and nobody else would believe it. The only other living witness has already requested a psychiatric evaluation. Perhaps I should, too. … My sister is gone. My mother is gone, but not in the same way. Seventeen days ago, I noticed Mom's shadow was …wrong. We were taking a sunset walk and ...

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“Interview with a Tiny God” by Shawn Wier

Submitted to Contest #187

The humans brought high-quality offerings this morning. They laid fresh fish and rotisserie rat at the feet of their statue meant to honor me and my siblings, and the bounty was delicious. Now, lazy with fullness (and cat-ness), I must do my part to hold the temple in place. It would be catastrophic if it were to get too light and blow away in the breeze, so I'll be right here, ensuring that my body mass will contribute to the safety of all who enter this holy space. Thankfully, these humans don't seem to be the type to stumble around carel...

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“A Marvelous Discovery” by Shawn Wier

Submitted to Contest #175

It was a crisp Saturday, which meant that it was time for Dad to make his weekly rounds clearing leaves from elderly neighbors' yards. The plan was for me to be his helper, but that was the plan every week. Still, in the last week of October, the only "help" I was good for was to knock on the front door and check in with the people whose yards "we" tidied."Come over here, kiddo," my dad called from the edge of Mr. Kelly's yard. I ran toward him as fast as my little legs could go even though it made my cheeks prickle in the cold air.He smiled...

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“The Song of "Someday"” by Shawn Wier

Submitted to Contest #174

Millie stares right through her mug of green tea. There's nothing particularly special about the day, but she feels off somehow. Two hours of practice daily from age 10 to 16. Three to four hours of practice and study from age 16 to 18, daily. Minimum six hours of practice and two of study from age 18 to 19, daily. She sees the band room where she first put together her flute and learned to read music, then the bedroom she set up to practice in those first few years. Somehow they had the same wine-colored carpet, though the bedroom's flo...

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“There You Are” by Shawn Wier

Submitted to Contest #171

It's near midnight and the October chill stirs regret for leaving my dorm without a jacket, but I can't bring myself to go back. Instead I have to just stand here and stare, cemented to the sidewalk. I've only been here for a few months now and large buildings like this still get to me–I think they always will–but that's not what has me frozen in place. My eyes rove over the Cherokee Gothic architecture, drinking in the contrast of red brick to beige, spotlighted against the clearest night I've seen here yet. I've made daily treks past thi...

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“The Witch's Familiar” by Shawn Wier

Submitted to Contest #169

[CW: mentions animal abuse and death] Nine hundred and ninety-nine steps into the forest, there is a clearing–a perfect circle exactly eighteen feet across. The trees here are centuries old, and though their trunks and roots dare not creep into this space, the canopy of their orange-clad branches create a cave with a skylight casting the center of the clearing in a persistent glow. There, in that natural spotlight, a familiar awaits his new master. He is tall, long, and lean; nose to tail tip is at least the length of a grown woman's leg...

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“Ascension from the Abyss” by Shawn Wier

Submitted to Contest #168

It's incredible, really. I know everyone says that because everyone should–a train that runs from Portsmouth to La Rochelle is nothing to shake a stick at. Trains I've been on in the past showed me trees, grasslands, and mountains whizzing by. The Sub-Atlantic Railway, however, shows me fathomless dark. It provides the eerie reflection of a mirror that sees further than the skin and into your own soul's abyss. Early in the trek, while the sun was still shining, I saw marine life like one can only imagine; in the first few hours of the tr...

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“She Runs a Tight Ship” by Shawn Wier

"Hey! You're leaning on the cortisol pump!" The intern nearly drops his coffee–a big no-no in its own right–as he jerks upright off the stability lever, now sitting at 29 mcg/dL. Captain Bowers rushes to the scene to readjust the stability lever back to 7 mcg/dL. "Someone check the adrenaline and vasopressin, catecholamines and thyroid on the other side of the bridge." She steps to the offending intern, terrifyingly close and with a finger on his chest. "You. Out. Do not come back," she commands. He salutes, awkward and lacking the discip...

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“The Aftermath” by Shawn Wier

Author's NoteThe best fiction always ties something down to fact, making the fantastical accessible to every strength of imagination. A magical tool is unique beyond belief yet recognizable as it serves a function that is nearly necessary to our lives in reality. A lie that is based in the truth will go further than one without a provable foundation, as has been proven over and over again in our history.Fiction versus fact is not strictly an external concept, though; most of us are perfectly capable of successfully lying to ourselves. People...

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“A Tear in the Sky” by Shawn Wier

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #165

[CW note: cursing, potentially offensive commentary on religion]I've never heard so many sirens. Sure, I've been a passerby of some pretty gnarly car wrecks - the ones that close four-lane highways and require half the emergency responders in the county - but this is something else entirely. Maybe some federal intelligence agency already has a plan or something, but we're not prepared for it, at least not here in Oklahoma. Typical of tornado alley residents, I'm on my front porch staring at it rather than figuring out whatever it is I'm...

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“Dust in the Air” by Shawn Wier

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #148

I can breathe.They say that it takes approximately seven years for every cell in one’s body to replace itself. This is a wildly inaccurate myth, but it’s nice to think about. It’s nice to feel like that could be the truth - that after seven years, there is no part of you that has ever been touched by the trauma you want so desperately to outlive.It isn’t, though. Many of our cells live from their initial development in the womb to the moment respiration stops, whether death comes at 100 days or 100 months or 100 years. Your permanent teeth -...

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