This is the first chapter of another story I wrote. It's kind of fun to read on its own. Or maybe I'm just a narcissist reading my own stories like sniffing my own underwear--which I don't do. Seriously. You sniff your own underwear. Before Beasts, There Were Storms by LoweFantasy Contrary to popular belief, Russia … Continue reading Summers in Russia and Typhoons
The pain started in my back half-way through sixth period on a Wednesday: orchestra class. At first I thought it was just the usual pains that come from sitting ramrod straight in my chair with my arms holding up a violin for an hour. But as the pain started making me wince and my bow … Continue reading Angels in the First Section
Raising a three-year-old, and children in general I suspect, is a lot like having an unmedicated bi-polar disorder. One minute you're filled to the brim with warm, fuzzy love that would throw you in front of a semi-truck for the sake of this child. The next, you're the semi-truck out to coat your grill in … Continue reading Pee and the Best Bi-Polar Disorder
Just a scene I wrote for fun for some future story of mine a loooong while back. Uber melodramatic. Got some action and blood in it too. Yay. All the giggles and mocking. Wings stretched high to the eye-tearing blue sky with feathers as white as the clouds. He reached for the sky with his … Continue reading Scraps of Wings
Another story idea I played around with for a bit. Probably isn't going to go anywhere. The cell was dark and cool, like a pantry. Unpleasant smells filled it: urine, old body odor, stale food, stale straw—but underneath it all was a tantalizing smell of wet stone and something akin to rain. It was almost … Continue reading Of Palest Ebony
Back when I was 17, after I had just moved in with the father I barely knew, I would go running in the mornings during the free hour in-between the 6am Seminary and school. I'd pull on my old dance pants, my sports bra, and an old gym shirt and run around the track in … Continue reading Track Worms
Another story idea I had about a homeless girl who can control people with her singing--even kill with it. Found it in the conclaves of my archives. Guess it never really got anywhere, because this little prologue is all there is. The cinnamon roll in his hands had already had all the icing licked off. What a … Continue reading I Don’t Sing
Blasted, stupid rain. It wasn't like he was against rain. Cloudy days gave his inner emo all sorts of happy fits, and his inner romantic, his emo's twin, wanted to look up all wet and sexy into the sky for girls to see. But today of all days—today of all freaking days. “Um...Lee?” “Shut up.” … Continue reading When Fallen, Look Up
Author T.S. Lowe 