Completed Works
By Christopher Mitchell “C’mon!” Darren whispered, “hurry up before someone sees us!” He held the factory window open for Shawn and Devon, keeping his eyes open for nosy bystanders. Their friend Tommy’s dad was on guard shift tonight. That meant Tommy’s dad would be too drunk to catch them, even if they were seen. But…
Written by: Christopher Mitchell This is a true story…. Have you ever seen what happens when a 19-year-old child is given a 90-day prescription of Adderall? Gather around, kids, it’s story time… So, no shit, there I was, slumming it up as a “Drill Sergeant” in Fort Sam Houston, TX. My “job” was to keep…
By Christopher Mitchell Chapter One Pick rode under a violet sky, unaware of the rest of the world around him. His horse, Booker, plodded slowly up the Arizona basin, much less enthusiastic about how the pinks melded with deep oranges as his riding partner was. But the view was majestic, nonetheless. And as Father Sun finally bowed its head…
By Christopher Mitchell Part Two Her name had been Bright Moon, and Broken Spear had loved her all his life. Her father had protested the loss of his only daughter to the hunter’s persistent determination, but he was hers and she was his, and Broken Spear could not…would not…be assuaged of this fact. Twin-River eventually…
Chapter Two: The Diner “Hey, Ollie!” John Haversham said, raising his arm in salutation. John and Tabitha Haversham ran the local market in town and had been calling Oliver “Ollie” since birth. John’s smile was warm and paternal, sitting directly below a semi-bulbous nose that had seen over six decades of snow and heat and…
By Christopher Mitchell It was his fourteenth meeting, and Alex Macombe had yet to speak. It was a survivor’s group, one where they shared their feelings and cried and sang kumbaya and hugged out their sadness. Alex couldn’t understand how they did it—couldn’t fathom how it was so easy for them to speak of their…
New to the Site? Catch Up Below: By Christoper Mitchell IV. Sickle inched her way from underneath the barmaid’s arm. The woman wasn’t as attractive in daylight, but Sickle was still impressed that something so pretty would still live in Detroit. The woman continued snoring as Sickle pissed and washed her hands. She wondered if…
New to the Site? Catch Up Below By Christopher Mitchell Twelve Marcus cinched the last of their belongings to the back of Sceppio. Falbreth was already mounted, though it had taken Argos some coercion to allow the boy on his back. The horse was displeased that his long-time rider had not returned to claim him….
New to the Site? Catch Up Below: By Christoper Mitchell III. They’d dropped their bags off at the hotel, Sickle and Parchment washing the stink of travel from their bodies before heading to the rendezvous point. It was at the north end of Lake St. Clair, moonlight bouncing off the port water and shimmering against…
By Christopher Mitchell Nine Peck awoke with a start, realizing he’d drifted to sleep at some point during his watch. The sun had risen over the ruins of the village, the huts they’d set ablaze in the night now skeletal kindling and ash, sending streaks of smoke to drift lazily into the grey-cloaked sky. His…