Calista Marchand-Nazzaro
Bio
Always learning and always evolving. I’m a creative, an idea person, a thinker, a dreamer, and working on being a doer. Many interests. Varied content. Food. Sustainability. Comedy. Poetry. Music.
Stories (90/0)
Letting Myself Love
I often feel that I deeply long for this thing that will brighten every day, lessen the loneliness after every crushing blow, and make me feel safe, comfortable, and secure in this world. I sit in this feeling and I daydream that maybe my person will show up any day now - that, in an instant, everything could change. The trajectory of my life, so uncertain now, could go hurtling in a completely different direction, right into a life I've secretly always wanted, but never let myself fully believe will take shape - in this universe, that is. While I'm secretly always on the look-out for love, you wouldn't know it. I believe in finding it organically - out in the wild, if you will. I hope this strategy works out for me and I like to think it will. Logically, it would make sense that if I do the things that I enjoy doing, spend time in the places that I enjoy being, and put my energy where my passion is, I will, in turn, meet people who share similar values, passions, and interests. I will find my people, so to speak. It doesn't seem like a stretch to believe that one of my people will be my person. Regardless of the outcome of this long game, by following my arrow, I will at least better be able to develop as a person and feel fulfilled and driven.
By Calista Marchand-Nazzaro4 months ago in Humans
A Second Marriage to Hold
All I can do is sigh. Lying in the eerie darkness - my surroundings always moving, yet also still - I remain. All these years - I assume it must be years since I landed here - of time drifting by like the creatures that move around me leave me with only more tarnish, but no one to care. Sometimes I dream I am getting closer to the light above, but I know it cannot be true.
By Calista Marchand-Nazzaro5 months ago in Fiction
Shimmers Between Worlds. Top Story - February 2024.
The ice crystals swirl in the freezing air, snow forming before his face. As the wind picks up, the snow shards move faster and faster in a flurry around his head, making him lose track of his surroundings. Not knowing which way is up and which is right, he shuts his eyes. When he opens them, he can see the image forming, clear as it can be through the blizzard happening before this wall of ice - he sees himself from the back, trading goods at an outdoor market - in another world, another life. He sees where he is somewhere else. Another gust of wind and a new flurry of snow, reveals the image of him cozy in a cabin, before a warming fireplace, holding his newborn daughter, his wife sitting beside them - a family he doesn't have here.
By Calista Marchand-Nazzaro5 months ago in Fiction
Growing with the Flow
This year, I am continuing my quest of becoming a doer. I aspire to treat Vocal with this same commitment to jump right in and see through my works to completion. I aim to complete every challenge (within reason for myself). Even if I do not submit my piece to the challenge while it is open, I will hold myself accountable to publishing it after I complete it nonetheless. My main goal for this year of creating and sharing on Vocal is to follow through with my creations and complete the pieces I have previously started, but that have been sitting unfinished - in some cases, even just a concept - for quite a while.
By Calista Marchand-Nazzaro5 months ago in Writers
The Assault
In the house on the hill, on the other side of the tracks, a card game was underway. This wasn't the sordid poker game that you're probably picturing. This was a classic game of Go Fish - adding to the wholesomeness, it was happening on one of those physically big card sets adorned with an overly-large font and clad in the images of goofy cartoon fish. Sitting around the table, and thoroughly engaged in the game at hand, were a motley assortment of characters. The ones who initiated the game (and were currently in the lead) were two young girls, sitting directly to the left of them, at the head of the table, was Fred, the grandfather of one of the girls - and the Guardian of the household. Filling the remainder of the table were five men between the ages of 35 and 60 - all looking as shady as their pasts. It was a sight, that's for sure, but for this group of misfits, it was a pretty average Friday night - Fred's granddaughter and her best friend come over for game night and all the guys gather 'round to partake in whatever game they choose. About halfway through their third game of Go Fish, they heard a dog bark in the distance. Other than that, the night was filled with contemplative silence and giggles.
By Calista Marchand-Nazzaro5 months ago in Criminal
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