Music. Roadtrips. Numerous amount of books. Gigs. Writer. Listen.
I write for Rekwired
http://rekwired.com/author/kristen-fisher/
And for Zouch Magazine
http://zouchmagazine.com/author/kristen/
Soundophiles
http://soundophiles.com/author/Fisher/
Surface Earth
http://surfaceearth.com/author/kristen_fisher/
A girl with great taste,
has an expensive amount of sight.
Oh how that girl had a slight wit,
about the things that must be done right.
Tsk, tsk, lady without a name,
who would have thought that dame,
could hold a gun at fair game.
@2 weeks ago
Starting a new short story that will continue tomorrow or later this week. Feel free to read or criticize.
More of my writing and now music is up on Dossier Journal.
They are sweet to me, an undiscovered amount. Hopeless days that cover the skies, a sweet bliss follows through.
@1 month agoSecond part and conclusion to this short story. A lot of Nina Simone was played during this writing process.
As they drove down the alley to fetch what was left of the water, it was the encounter of another person where the apples began to spoil. Under the hot heat of a street lamp, it started to snow just as her arrow burst through the windshield. None of them could move or consider what had happened. No action required, no retaliation was needed because what needed to be proved was already done. The scared shit-less teenagers had no chance to keep hold of the wheel.
Now as a response to such a repulsive moment, the hands that were white knuckling the steering wheel, immediately let go. Letting the car drive itself towards the cliff where on a boulevard, decided to stop right before the edge had ripped apart from the rest of the Earth. It was here, at that incredulous instant the four individuals piled out of the car. Naturally, you see. Naturally. But all the while as everyone had left running towards the highway that rung around the side of the mountain. I suggested in the note attached to the arrow to “wear the red mask before death had swallowed them whole.” They never listen, do they.
@7 months agoA girl with great taste,
has an expensive amount of sight.
Oh how that girl had a slight wit,
about the things that must be done right.
Tsk, tsk, lady without a name,
who would have thought that dame,
could hold a gun at fair game.
They are sweet to me, an undiscovered amount. Hopeless days that cover the skies, a sweet bliss follows through.
Second part and conclusion to this short story. A lot of Nina Simone was played during this writing process.
Starting a new short story that will continue tomorrow or later this week. Feel free to read or criticize.
As they drove down the alley to fetch what was left of the water, it was the encounter of another person where the apples began to spoil. Under the hot heat of a street lamp, it started to snow just as her arrow burst through the windshield. None of them could move or consider what had happened. No action required, no retaliation was needed because what needed to be proved was already done. The scared shit-less teenagers had no chance to keep hold of the wheel.
Now as a response to such a repulsive moment, the hands that were white knuckling the steering wheel, immediately let go. Letting the car drive itself towards the cliff where on a boulevard, decided to stop right before the edge had ripped apart from the rest of the Earth. It was here, at that incredulous instant the four individuals piled out of the car. Naturally, you see. Naturally. But all the while as everyone had left running towards the highway that rung around the side of the mountain. I suggested in the note attached to the arrow to “wear the red mask before death had swallowed them whole.” They never listen, do they.
More of my writing and now music is up on Dossier Journal.
