Gris Lee Stories

On cold days like this one there’s nothing quite like curling up in dressing gown with the fire on. I’m bundled up in my chair along with my darling child. She snores gently, like a kitten. The way she wriggles from dreaming in that sunshine yellow onesie warms my heart on a winter’s day like this one. Her presence seems to also have caught the attention of Maurice, who’s peering gently over at Lucy in my arms. His large frame barely stays settled on the couch as it is and it’s reaching the point where I’m concerned he’ll topple himself over. In spite of this, his focus seems solely set on little Lucy. Not even the cartoons on the television have his attention. When he’s not with Nigel I can usually plop him right of the thing so as to keep him out of trouble. Lord knows what problems would arise if he were without supervision. That childlike glimmer of curiosity in his eyes is starting to play into my motherly instincts however. I cave in. “Would you like to hold her Maurice...

The tang of iron rustles the hairs of my nostrils and the buds of my tongue. It kicks me awake. I don’t know where I am. My vision is blurred. My hearing is muffled. My taste and smell are muddied with blood. I can only rely on my touch. Invisible hands weigh down my limbs, leaving them sluggish. I settle for wiggling my fingers. They feel restrained, stroking only at the cool metal they appear bound to. This is frustrating. I want to scream for help, twist, turn, struggle, find a clue, find help, find anything. Someone help. Help. Help. Help. Help. Help. Help. I start falling asleep again… AH! A jolt of surprise adrenaline snakes its way through my veins. All of a sudden my heartbeat erupts in action, thumping at an insane rate. The mugginess that masked my senses dissipates, revealing…so little. The room I’m in is dimly lit, aside from some otherworldly glows clawing in from the corners of my eyes. I can make out shapes of basic furniture and unusual e...