Discovery Short Stories

He struggled to get out beneath her sun warmed skin as she leaned near his ear and whispered, “You shouldn’t be here.” Her piercing blue eyes were like pools of extravagant azure that seemed to see straight into the depth of his soul, exposing all of the secrets of his true heart which were thought to been hidden. As she finished, her hand met his face like a brick to a ground of crumbled stone.

From somewhere in the stillness, she felt a soft breeze on her neck and heard a faint whisper in her ear “Lacey....” A trickle of fear ran down her spine as she gave a furtive glance around the room. She was alone, wasn’t she? Were there vagrants in the area? Afraid and needing to hear a human voice, she called out, “Hello? Is anyone here?”

For once, she wandered toward him with no children in tow. Today, she wore no linen coif, and her elbow-length, blond hair hung down loose. Percival had not realized how thick and glossy it was. And instead of wearing her typical nanny uniform of a stiff beige tunic dress, she wore a pale blue dress, more fitted at the top, and cinched at the waist with dark leather girdle belt. The belt accentuated the curve of her hips, and he color of her dress brought out the light honey color in her eyes. She was even more beautiful than he recalled, and in that instant, her presence was the balm he needed to soothe his agitated soul. He realized that he’d had but one brief interaction with her earlier in the day, yet her presence was exactly what he needed.

His warm breath contrasting sharply with the chilled air, while his skin looked as though it could have been taken straight from the darkened sky that glittered high above. Thoughts began to drift into the man’s hazy mind. About their first meeting in her father’s shop, how he’d rescued her from the bugger who yabbered on about chooks. Eventually, his thoughts brought him back

“Bob” calls Brenda out the window. “Come on in sweetie, we have a lot to do today! We barely have time to reflect on our situation right now, due to the 4th of July party coming up; the Smith’s 2008 fashion event; and, your get together with the guys…all in just two days.” Bob, a middle-aged man, lives in New York with his wife, Brenda, and his parents. Soaking up the sun, he stands dressed in a Polo short –sleeve and plaid shorts on the front sidewalk of his Mom and Dad’s home. He calls to his wife, “Brenda, come out here and join me. I need to ask you something.”

When Ellie arrived the other day it was dark and she was unable to appreciate the beautiful countryside surrounding her. However today, it was spectacular. The imposing mountains in the distance were stunning and the open fields bordered by lofty trees were delightful. Since she isn’t in any hurry to reach town, Ellie pulls over and simply sits and takes it all in. It is relaxing, drawing the tension from her.

On this summer day we find out that the dressmaking shop owner stole a hundred and fifty thousand dollars from clients, workers, and friends, and ran off. Here the weather is used to describe how he feels. The “white-hot sunshine” is used to portray the anger and heat he feels for the woman in the following scene when the narrator finds out the lady stole the money. This goes on with the narrator going off to the roof where “the sky above was a soft quiet blue” (27), thinking about the impact the women created on him, his family, and community. The soft quiet blue here is used to describe his emotions as his anguish dematerializes and his emotions clear up to reveal the sorrow he now feels towards the woman. The narrator then uses the mist and clouds to describe the sadness he displayed that night when he realizes that he had been deluded, “The scene in front of me got misty, and I discovered that my eyes were filled with tears”

It was three in the morning, light beats of cool rain hitting the windows, casting strange shadows onto the walls. Audrey was sleeping peacefully beside her, lips parted and legs tucked close, the heat from her body somehow warming Desiree’s insides. She looked at the other with a soft gaze and a fond smile on her face, heart melting at the sight. Audrey’s face slept so adorably, so soft and loose, sleep allowing her to become vulnerable and almost young again. It was an indulgence, to view Audrey as young and so care free in her sleep. To imagine their lives as easy as they wanted, as successful as they wished. Desiree longed to keep her like that, keep her away from trouble and danger, love care for her deeply enough to keep her safe

While listening to the StoryCorps stories, three of the five that I chose to focus on all have something in common. Each story depicts in some sort of way that hard work goes a long way in life. The stories I listen to were, “Anytime they had a stunt to do with a black actor, they would paint these white guys in blackface.” “The way that I look at my job as a vendor, I am a professional athlete.” and “All of a sudden Dr. King drove down the street.” These three stories showed that when you work hard, good things come to you. The “black actors” story talked about two men who wanted to become stuntmen for real actors. These two men were rejected from many films but continued practicing in parks, and on the streets. They would dive off park bleachers

“How long has it been since I’ve felt like this?” I wondered as I walked along the greenish-gray pond. My back baked in the radiating light of the sun while I pondered on about the life I lived leading up to this serene moment.There was a hectic crowded rummaging about, everyone filled with astonishment, boredom, irritation, and exhaustion. Despite all of this everything was in a calm silence. Hordes of people, but I still felt alone.

This small yet powerful voice shakes our morals to the concrete foundation, affects our decision-making and even persuades our choices made. The day was a very typical but a distinctiveness hung in the mist like the salty, crisp aroma of the great pacific ocean. My thoughts were blank, incomplete, tuned out by the muffling of the vehicle and the constant static of the radio. Switching lanes on to my usual route, I saw the leaves blow in the cool breeze, hovering like a small swarm of doves. The leaves have begun their cycle of life, changing into vibrant shades and hues of sun kissed orange and moribund yellow. Peering out the window, the environment grabbed my attention, and the constant sipping of the dark brew of coffee kept my eyes alert and attentive to all my sense into taking full effect. Life seemed to great, to perfect, to good, but in reality the covering mask was about to be

A drop of perspiration made a slow trek down my face as I carefully placed one foot in front of the other, each step taken with a precision a ballerina would envy. The scorching sun was directly behind me, its rays beaming directly through my shirt, making my venture more difficult than it usually was. I hadn’t had luck on my side so far today. The sky was bare of clouds, and no grain bin was tall enough to shade me from the sun. I wore my lucky red shirt specifically for this day. Yeah – I have a lucky shirt, what’re you laughing at? My usual crowd would consist of solely my brother, but today I had two sets of eyes on me. My brother’s, gazing up at me with his permanent look of wonder, and Sarah Crocker’s, her smirk extending beyond her lips

As the wind brushed the back of my dress, I turned around to overlook the waves of golden ocean, pouring into the small town I called home. But, my eyes became fixed on the sun. It was so wonderful, so beautiful as it rose out of its slumber in the mountains. I always felt the sun’s warmth on my cloudy white dress, and I loved how it always felt like my father’s hugs.

He glanced out of the window, watching the sky turning from a deep blue shade to a clear, blue, breezy morning. ‘A good day.’ He made a mental note to himself. The sun baked through the curtains, sharpening his enormous shadow. He thought of that fussy factory owner and sighed.

The streetlights reflected red on our silhouette-looking faces and flooded the 11:37PM sky. His much-too-nice truck hummed over the cracked foundation of the road, luckily distracting his oceanic eyes from the prominent goosebumps on my forearms. Ashes flew and faded onto my black, cotton hoodie from the cancer hanging from his chapped lips. Chapped lips that curled into a grin when I sat inches away from his blonde hair brushing against my cheek. I convinced myself that he was finding other focus points like the illuminated radio screen or the coffee cups shaking in their holders or the seatbelt light blinking on his dashboard, yet my eyes remained fixed on those chapped lips. Although, it was dark. We only ever made eye contact