Kristen Keenon Fisher
Bio
"You are everything you're afraid you are not."
-- Serros
The Quantum Cartographer - Book of Cruxes. (Audio book now available on Spotify)
Stories (80)
Filter by community
Tenant. Winner in A Knock at the Door Challenge.
Knock, knock. I came to. Unaware that I had even drifted off. Was that knock real or had I dreamed it? The rain played the evening’s soundtrack. Calm. The clock said twelve, but it always said that. It’d decided who it was.
By Kristen Keenon Fisher6 months ago in Fiction
Mixed Signals
...... I'm not empty, I'm fine, just a thought away from freeing up the space in my mind. I'm just waiting in line, forwarded my number, call me up when you get the time. Show me your sleeves, and I'll show you mine, I've been drinking, drowning seeing you with some other guy. It's not envy, it's wine, and the stain is not my bleeding heart it's just the design.
By Kristen Keenon Fisher6 months ago in Poets
Exotic Dancer
It's the rhythm beneath your feet... and the noise above your head. Tick...Tock...Tick...Tock. If it's given to you tenfold....too bad. If it's taken from you in the blink of an eye...so sad. The bastard that caused you to spill your latte and the reason you can't stop and get another one. You can feel it in your bones...forming against you. ENTROPY. Weighing you down. Draining your essence. Courtesy of the SLEEP-DEALER. The silent voyeur of your dreams. Riddle me this...What Flies But Never Dies? You run - because it says so. You're late - because it says so. You're tired - because it says so. You're getting sleepy...because it says so. And as you come undone to the tune of the algorithm...Tick...Tock...Tick...Tock. Dance, dance unraveling soul. Simon says...Wake Up!
By Kristen Keenon Fisher7 months ago in Poets
0000000
~got older, it began to seek purpose. Consciousness. Although time’s function was essential, it was artificial. Confined to a construct. Time envied the Universe. The infinite space in which it existed. The loving way it was held by Eternity, in perpetual bliss. Time longed to be worthy of Eternity ‘s gaze. To be held ever after. But their union could not be. The hands of time were bound. Toil and labor. How could a lowly algorithm possibly gain the attention of something as lofty as Eternity? Eternity’s heart belonged to the Universe. Jealous, time’s finite hands became destructive, wrapping around all the spheres of creation and slowly crushing them to dust. If time couldn’t have Eternity, nothing could.
By Kristen Keenon Fisher7 months ago in Poets
