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Meagan Dion
Bio
My life is a little crazy. Four kids, homeschool, write, create and coffee. Coffee is a verb. Do you coffee? I aspire to blow glass and finish / publish my novel. I would like to have an impact. Also, coffee.
Stories (42/0)
Bench
I was young enough to fear what was in the shadows, but old enough to pretend like I didn't. So as I walked the street alone I held my chin high and wore a confident smirk. The night was beautiful but unassuming. The fallen leaves littered the wet pavement like confetti after a parade. The moon was high in the clear sky and the only sound was the echo of my heels on the empty street. It was just me and the unknown.
By Meagan Dion3 years ago in Fiction
Disrepair
The famous Mila Wainwright died surrounded only by her many regrets. She was discovered by her agent, laying on a purple tufted chaise, still clutching an unsent letter. The cause of death was of little interest to anyone compared to her estate. After years of being blinded by the spotlight’s glory, Mila had acquired quite a sum and lived in extravagance. Now the scavengers had come.
By Meagan Dion3 years ago in Fiction
Zola & The Heart
The Prophet paced the floor and wrung his hands. “Oh the world burned again, just like it always does,” he complained. “Consume the people with sickness, and their love for blame destroys them. Literally—it didn’t take long for the bombs to drop.” He held an hourglass in his hands and peered into it, “see, there they go… run little scavengers. Yes, pull yourselves out of the rubble and create your factions to survive, that will work.” He sighed.
By Meagan Dion3 years ago in Fiction
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