Taylor Viv

“The Language of Understanding” by Taylor Viv

-Scarlett-Stella’s breathing slowed to a steady huff, and with each stride, the familiar pace of pattern. Her mane drifted into the wind, becoming part of the pearlescent sky that ruled the morning. She was strong and powerful enough to kill me in an instant, yet she didn’t. Trust is the only bond between man and beast- without it, nature takes its course. That very nature being destruction or separation. We continued down the valley lingering on the outskirts of the group. Attune to every movement and every...

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“POV ” by Taylor Viv

Claire           7:45. The coffee machine flicks on and starts brewing my father’s coffee. The dark roast slowly drips into his mug that I set out the night before. I watch as two finches hop from branch to branch outside of the kitchen window, and my father walks in and places his files on the table. As I set the steaming coffee in front of him, he looks up at me. “I hear Addison has roped you into helping her in the labor and delivery unit.” He grins. I laugh to myself...

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“Chiaroscuro” by Taylor Viv

Submitted to Contest #92

Darkness. Besides the obvious definition, the absence of light, nobody can tell you what it is. I hate darkness. Like ink, its stain somehow can only be blotted out, not erased. It knows no limits and spares no person. Just when you think you’ve escaped, the lamp switches off. The covers no longer a suitable shield. There aren’t even shadows. There is just black. The all-consuming struggle.  Light. Somehow, ever...

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“Building B ” by Taylor Viv

Submitted to Contest #91

The scuffing of my shoes against the glass tile only adds to the pressure of sneaking into Building B of the Informational Library. Here in Merryweather, citizens aren’t allowed access to this information. Everyone here has grown used to the restrictions and overabundant rules, except for me. I used to live outside of these walls, or to the citizens here “the dead zone”. This government has gotten everyone to believe that anywhere outside of the barbed, electric fences is dangerous. They have convinced these people that there are no other...

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“What day is it?” by Taylor Viv

Submitted to Contest #84

   As the sun streams through the window, I struggle to stay within the comfortable confines of my dream. I fight to stay; gripping at any last fragments of closure. But, despite my efforts, my eyes are forced open. I heave my body out of bed.   I find myself on autopilot meandering to grab some coffee out of the kitchen. The steaming mug reminds me of winter at my family’s cabin. When I was young, my mom bought these matching mugs for me and my siblings. I would bring it to the cabin every year. ...

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