Aaron Morrison
Bio
Mad Lib it:
Born during a (___natural disaster___), Aaron spends his free time exploring (___unusual location (plural) ___) and raising domesticated (___fictional creature (plural)___).
Author of Miscellany Farrago
insta: @theaaronmorrison
Achievements (16)
Stories (123)
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IF YOU'RE COLD, THEY'RE COLD
Mommy. It's cold. The child's voice echoes from behind the thick, wooden door, through the foyer and into the living room, permeating the sound of the crackling fire, the screaming wind encircling the house, and the rattling of the snow caked windows.
By Aaron Morrison2 years ago in Fiction
THE HAGWITCH of COTTER'S FOREST
I suppose I am writing this as a confession, though it’s the same thing I told everyone back then. No one believed me thirty years ago, so I don’t expect anyone to believe me now, but I don’t care. There’s a sense of release and relief in telling this story one final time before I do what needs to be done.
By Aaron Morrison2 years ago in Horror
CHRISTMAS WITH JERRY
Jerry arranged the decorations just so. A cherished mix of family ornaments, knickknacks, and adornments he had collected over the years. Snow globes and tin soldiers on the mantel. Garland and a nutcracker on the end table. A motorized Santa, who had long lost his naughty or nice list, in the corner. Jerry’s eyes lit up and a childlike smile appeared on his face as he switched on the toy train and it began its cycle around the Christmas tree. Dozens of other ornaments, decorations, and trinkets looked on as Jerry all but skipped to his keyboards. He preferred an actual organ, but that was too impractical. Jerry had worked the dual keyboard setup just as well. The extra control over the sound, as well as the portability, had appealed to Jerry. Though it had meant purchasing stands, foot pedals, cables, amps, and the like, he had never regretted the decision.
By Aaron Morrison2 years ago in Horror
PROTZFALIA
“How are you feeling?” “Like shit.” I took another drag off the cigarette. The crackling of the burning paper and tobacco flitted around the otherwise silent night air as the pulse of heat warmed my fingers. I held the smoke I knew was bad for me in my lungs for a moment, then expelled the cloud through my nose.
By Aaron Morrison2 years ago in Fiction
Ms. Abbott. Top Story - October 2023.
It was the height of summer when even the evening winds blow warm and don’t offer much relief. We’d distract ourselves from the heat by runnin’ and hollerin’ like untamed creatures. We’d try and cool off with sips of lemonade our Mas made, and sips of beer offered by our Pas, when our Mas weren’t looking of course.
By Aaron Morrison2 years ago in Fiction
