It's spooky in here
Welcome to Zora Grizz Writes!
: The central hub for all things Zora Grizz related
First of all, thank you so much for being here today.
<<clears throat nervously>>
<<shuffles sweaty flashcards>>
<<drops two, stares at them on the floor, then decides to pretend that didn't happen and completely ignores them>>
Guess, what bitches?
I'M "PROMOTING...MY...WRITING"
Oh gawd...it tastes funny...in my mouth...what even is words aaaaaaaaah!
Ok. I'm a human again.
<<whispers "Not An Imposter" over and over again under her breath>>
More words go here don't they? Hokay. So:
I write things. I've always written things. That's a big part of how I process and understand the world around me: through stories. But it is HARD to get words I've written to be read to also be PuBliShEd.
So. Um. I made this website. AND I made a FUCKING INSTAGRAM, like a PROFESSIONAL PERSON...I think. I don't even know anymore, what is "professional" or "person" anyway? <<shifty eyes>>
These stories stem from a lot of things: My experiences and thoughts, wanting to play with wordsmithing and technique, or whatever the hell shapes my hand feels like making on the proverbial paper when there's a proverbial pen in it. I do what I want.
The content is generally, well...spooky.
Whether it's a long walk up a stormy mountain, a three legged alien trying to save her girlfriend from a citrusy demise, or strange sounds late at night under an October moon...
I write things, and it's a good time. Thanks for joining me! <3
There it was again: someone was…screaming…shrieking, just over the hill…in the boneyard.
I had wrenched the door to the deck open and now stood outside on the snow covered planks, eyes wide and looking everywhere around, ears straining desperately to try and track where the noise could possibly be coming from. Between the tall trees near the house and the steep slope of the mountainside around me, I couldn’t see much further than a few feet past the edge of the railing. There was not enough available for me to see to determine where and why blood curdling screams were happening incredibly close by to where I stood.
It was dusk, the light slipping away into fresh, deep, blues across the snow, and I’d been trying to figure out what I'd been hearing and what has had the dogs inside my own house barking and frantic out of their minds for the last several minutes.
I live alone.
The only other people nearby would be a few hundred meters away, retirees up the hill.