Charlie Sourire
Bio
Author and poet who specializes in imagery and vivid words.
My roots are reviving amidst the zephyrs and gales aboveground.
Appalachian Anthology coming soon.
Stories (13/0)
The Bayou and the Clutter, pt. III/IV
Chapter 3: Grow up. Ten thousand police officers swarmed over the house, at least that is what it seemed like. Iliana knew what had happened before she even got out of the car. Her father was the proud owner of many guns, and with how unpredictable his temper was, the details of what happened were unclear, but Iliana could see in her mind his body, as if looking at a scarecrow in dense fog. She approached one of the officers, and the air was buzzing with the beating of twenty thousand little wings.
By Charlie Sourire4 years ago in Families
The Bayou and the Clutter, Part II
Chapter II: Home, as it was. She didn’t immediately recognize where she was when she woke up. The place seemed unfamiliar, strange. With sleep still in her eyes, Iliana sat up in her childhood room with the bright yellow walls and the keyboard by the door. She loved that keyboard. It had 88 keys and hundreds of instruments programmed into it, but Iliana usually kept it on the grand piano setting. Playing music had gotten her though the roughest of times. This morning, she had an almost unbearable urge to play.
By Charlie Sourire4 years ago in Families
The Bayou and the Clutter, Part I
You could see the whole bayou from the rocking chair on the porch. The blue sky was tinged gold by the setting sun, the narrow waterways rippling in the soft breeze. This was the best time to sit on the porch. No sun to beat you down, and the breeze washing away the remaining heat. It was comfortably warm, and it was beautiful. It’s the only thing she missed when she left. Sitting in the rocking chair on the porch, watching the bayou pull the cover of night up to its chin.
By Charlie Sourire6 years ago in Families
