Ophelia Keane Braeden
Bio
Quirky fiction, hand-crafty non-fiction, random poetry. The muse strikes from all angles! Grab your favorite floatation device and join me on the wandering river of writerly flow!
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None of my writing is ever touched by AI.
Stories (27)
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The Blinding Dark. Content Warning.
There was a dark place on the edge of the marsh. No one could quite describe precisely how it was dark. It wasn’t that there was a persistent shadow, and it had nothing to do with the underbrush. One couldn’t really call it a thicket. Every aspect of it could be seen clearly: every branch and leaf and blade of reed grass. Nor did the fog tend to gather there in excess. If anything, it wasn’t necessarily a visual darkness, but rather a feeling.
By Ophelia Keane Braeden12 days ago in Fiction
The Octopus: A Parable. Runner-Up in A System That Isn’t Working Challenge.
There once was an octopus that lived in a beautiful reef on the edge of the sea. He had eight perfect tentacles he could use to swim, and catch his food, and hold onto the rocks when the tide was strong so he wouldn’t be swept out into the dark, dangerous, deep waters.
By Ophelia Keane Braedenabout a month ago in Humans
The Empty Chair
I sit in my living room and look upon the empty chair. Once, a human being sat there, with life and love within him. A person with dreams, goals, and the ambition to achieve them all. Now there is only air. Empty air, dusty air, illuminated by the scant sunlight that drifts in through the dirty window.
By Ophelia Keane Braedenabout a month ago in Fiction
