Anthony Cicchino

Hi, all! I enjoy writing horror, both prose and poetry. Working on my prose at the moment. Thank you for reading!

595

Writings

Followers

Following

Anthony Cicchino

Hi, all! I enjoy writing horror, both prose and poetry. Working on my prose at the moment. Thank you for reading!

595

Writings

Followers

Following

Sun Again

Anthony Cicchino

1 min read

Evan emerges from the front door. He immediately raises his hands to his face, shielding himself from the sun. He hasn’t felt it all summer long. It’s hot - and he forgot how hot it could get in his town. He thinks of baked cookies, dinners from his mother, steamy showers that he had to lower the temperature of before he hopped in. That’s how he feels now: he doesn’t want to be the cookies, the di...

Drama

The Protection Of The Mist

Anthony Cicchino

1 min read

Everybody wanted to live in the four-story pagoda. Picture this: a wide expanse of water, glistening with stars; a crescent moon hanging in the skies amidst clouds; a home, within it all. That was the pagoda. Mist seemed to always surround it. One time, when we were kids, we took a small boat nearby but couldn’t get close enough to see in through the windows. They were always lit, though, and the ...

Drama

Fantasy

Promises Made With The Dead

Anthony Cicchino

1 min read

“Let’s skip the pleasantries, shall we? You and I both know we’re not here for small talk.”

“Geez, I just wanted to know how you’ve been. Whatever. You’ve always been cold like this. That’s why I hired you. Is it done?”

“It’s done. Of course. I don’t miss. Do you have the payment?”

“I haven’t heard anything about a shooting. No news, no phone calls. How do I know it’s done?”

“Here’s a phot...

Drama

Crime

As Sinister As A Star

Anthony Cicchino

1 min read

We look to the stars, wondering if they, too, will fall. Will their path blaze and leave fire and flame behind, until they reach the ground? And then will the sidewalks, streets, and dirt crumble, too, or will they land more peacefully? We can’t fathom a time of peace, or something as sinister as a star coming down to infiltrate us. There’s no niceties any longer. Remember in schools, when we woul...

Drama

Baby’s Home

Anthony Cicchino

1 min read

They used to give me that same love. See it, there? The look in their eyes? Even their words are similar: “Oh, she’s so cute. Ah, look at what she did!” She can do no wrong, and I used to not be able to either. Now, I sit in my bed in the corner of the room, watching. They don’t even care when I make a silly noise or drop my toy at their feet anymore. They haven’t taken pictures of me in days. I h...

Drama

Humour

Waterfall

Anthony Cicchino

1 min read

I was eager to feel intertwined with the water. I desired for it to absorb me, enter each pore, exit again, and enter again, so I was one with the flow and the flow was one with me. Yet, when I stood still and let the ocean absorb me, I felt nothing. Something I had desired for so long felt like nothing. It made me numb and I found it astonishing. How often did I do this, want something so deeply ...

Drama

Milk Carton

Anthony Cicchino

1 min read

“I’ve seen better looking people on milk cartons.”

“Excuse me? _Missing_ people? That’s disrespectful.”

“To you and to them, huh?”

“To them more than to me. Why would you even say that?”

“You just look ragged right now. Like you’ve been missing yourself.”

“Well, I haven’t. I’ve been here the whole time. Right here with you, day out and day in, in this apartment.”

“And you look the wors...

Horror

Mystery

Nailed

Anthony Cicchino

1 min read

Her hands sit on the table before her, neatly clasped. Each finger intertwines with the other like some intricate puzzle, beginning for an answer yet never giving anything up. The wrinkles on each knuckle are faint, the skin firm; the nails at the end of each finger are trimmed and shaped into a triangle. One swipe of those against a neck, and the person could die. Her hands don’t move as she star...

Drama

Two Friends And The Wishing Tree

Anthony Cicchino

1 min read

Vella sat her sword against the nearby stump.

“That’s it,” she said, turning to Jasmine and looking up at the tree before them.

Leaves scattered the cobblestone walkway, turning an otherwise barren, snowy scene into something a bit more spectacular. The trunk of the tree itself was large and scarred, but no different from any of the other trees they’d seen on the journey here. Jasmine hadn’t p...

Drama

Fantasy

Kitchen Memories And Lemon

Anthony Cicchino

1 min read

The memory is vivid: my mother stands in the kitchen as my sister and I make paper boats out of newspapers. We want to play with them in the suds from dad washing his car, but mother won’t let us; we don’t know that then, though. We’re playing laughing, creating, messing up and still laughing, as if nothing really mattered besides having fun. The scent of lemons fills the memory: my mother with he...

Poetry

Drama