Christine Diamond The Writer

Mystic Woods By Christine Diamond A path of dry dust lay before the wanderer. Mathias was exhausted, parched and completely alone. It had been several days since his last meal, and he wasn’t sure where he was going anymore. Delusion and mirages were his daily companions. This stout brawny man came from a village where you traded your craft for coins, he didn’t know how to fend for himself in the wild. However, Mathias was clever and did know how to make tools. He rested under the shade of a slender yet sturdy oak tree.  Her long branches swayed in the breeze like long locks of brown hair. The sunlight began to sparkle between her translucent deep green leaves.  The tree moved more than swaying, Mathias blinked. What had he just seen? A rush of wind whirred around him and soon standing before him was a lovely Dryad. She slowly walked toward him, her feet barely making a dent on the soft clovers and sedum that lay under the tree, who’s trunk she had just emerged from. Her eye

The Smell of Rain By Christine Diamond A silent set of eyes watched the rain fall as he shimmied back further into his burrow. The grey fluff of his floppy ears was slightly matted down from a few raindrops that had told him to run inside and hide. He saw the tall shadows of three figures walk past, so he nosed deeper into his hole out of sight. His little white cottontail disappearing from view. *** The deep steady thud above shook the rabbit's home as three human figures trailed along the dirt path. There were two solid sets of black galoshes, and one tiny set of bright red boots with white polka dots peppering the rubber. A squeal rang through the air as the bright red boots found a puddle. Her jump splashed water and bits of mud everywhere! The wide eyed faces of the adults slowly turned into playful smiles and they too jumped into the muddy puddle.  *** Bright laughter could be heard bouncing high in the air from this silly group. It danced across the fresh farmlan

She Doesn’t Know It Yet By Christine Diamond Avery looks up at me with big milk chocolate eyes and asks if she can have a cookie. “Um yes, my girl, of course you can. You should have everything you want in life.” I pat the side of her juicy plump cheek and smile.  She’s only 6 years old and has the world at her fingertips. She’s looking at her wide smile in her purple plastic makeup mirror. Now the chocolate from the cookie is being spread around like lipstick. She winks at herself and giggles. “Look, I have a cookie kiss!”  The cookie kiss makes me think of my husband and how we playfully kiss. Well, I am with child again, preggers, pregnant. I’ve got a ‘bun in the oven’. The floodgates of mixed up knotted emotions flow out of me at random. I cannot control anything, not even myself. My body is squished from the inside. My emotions are rocked back and forth. It’s not soothing. As I witness Avery carefully place a twinkling jeweled tiara to the top of her long straight brow

My Greatest Fear By Christine Diamond I open my eyes, small slits  The bright world screams I just want to sleep away the pain I look at the time on my phone I’m late The day has started one pace behind. Thoughts of hopelessness flood in  I drown with worry and dread “You have so much to do, you’ll never be able to get to it.” “It’s a worthless fight to keep trying.” “They’ll fire you, why even show up?” With that last thought burning into the back of my brain,  I turn over and hit Snooze… I sleep for a few more hours The sunlight streaming in the grimey window makes me sweat I’m not comfortable here in bed anymore I roll over onto the floor, slightly moist sheets trail after On the floor I smell the synthetic fringed tan carpet, pressed up against my squashed nose. I thought I had an appetite, but no. I lost it. I don’t want to do anything but lie here. It happens again...I start to think too many thoughts I list off what’s wrong in my life,  what’s wrong with me,  and wha

Riddles By Christine Diamond Who is this?: I scare you to show that I care I twist thoughts to make you exposed; bare. Today’s goal is to pick on the weak Next week’s agenda is to prey on the meek I fight your individual liberty with flair Who is this?: I venture into public, pests fogging up my path Strangers glare at me with a fierce wrath My leaders tell me I am dumb So that I will remain numb As I succumb to the mistruths, and sit in a psychological bloodbath Who is this?: I tell you to look at those who are oppressed But it’s really all about the contest The stories I share of lives brutally beaten Are just an afternoon snack that I’ve eaten It fuels my sense of control, I will not rest Who is this? Brother and father clash verbal fists Mother and daughter shun one another with self righteous lists Parent and child are lost in this battle Losing our humanity, transformed into glass eyed cattle All will be lost, if we keep slitting each other’s emotional wrists  Why are

Fitcher's Byrd - A Story of Abduction - By Christine Diamond ***Trigger warning: If you are sensitive to abduction, sex trafficking or rape please be advised this story contains those topics. Decide if you are in a good place before you read.*** A bright orange harvest sun began its descent behind the tree lined family neighborhood. Inside a small town suburban house in quiet Alabama sat a family of five; two docile parents and three very lively teenage girls. The dinner table was filled with a balanced meal of comfort food: chicken casserole, green beans and mashed potatoes with a crisp drink of fresh grape juice from the garden. The girls; Savannah, Kaylee and Madison, happily chatted away about their current crushes. The father and mother lightly listened in with soft smiles resting on their faces, not a shadow of worry to trouble them, at least for now. Mrs. Byrd was not usually home at this hour and was putting second helpings on her youngest daughter’s plate a bit r