RC Adamson
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Stories (5)
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What the Lake Remembers. Content Warning.
The road to Harrow Lake didn't appear on any GPS. You had to know someone who knew someone, or you had to find the hand-drawn map that had been photocopied so many times the ink bled into gray smears at the edges. Colin had found the map tucked into the back of his grandfather's fishing journal, and he'd taken it as a sign.
By RC Adamson32 minutes ago in Horror
A Formal Apology, Offered in Good Faith and Roughly Chronological Order
To Whom It May Concern (and you all concern me, deeply, which is part of the problem): I want to begin by saying that I am sorry. Genuinely. From the bottom of whatever is left of my heart after this week, which, and I want to be transparent about this, was not entirely my fault, though I acknowledge that the parts that were my fault were significantly my fault.
By RC Adamsonabout 6 hours ago in Humor
Where the Heart Lies
Where the Heart Lies “What the hell!” shouted Jess, jerking awake from a deep sleep. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep next to the fire, but the cold medicine she’d taken didn’t leave her much choice in the matter. Her sudden movement triggered a coughing fit that seized up her whole body and lasted a lot longer than any of the others had. When everything finally settled down, she was on her hands and knees and her whole body was throbbing in protest. She stared down at her hands until her eyes were able to focus again. Her fingernails and cuticles were dirty and ragged, something that had been a huge pet peeve of hers six short months ago. Before she could stop herself, her gaze made its way to the pale circle of white gold around her third finger on her left hand. Her heart grew heavy and tightened in her chest at the sight of where her wedding band still sat, dinged up and dirty. Tears flooded her eyes and a small sob escaped her lips.
By RC Adamson5 years ago in Fiction
