Short Story Archives - Thea van Diepen

Sneak Peek at New Fiction Coming for Subscribers!

Thea van Diepen

Hello! If you haven’t signed up to my short fiction subscription yet, you’ll want to before June 1st. Why? Because the next set of short fiction for subscribers contains not one but two stories and a poem! And one of those stories? Quite literally introduces a new world I’ve not previously published anything in. But I promised you a sneak peek. So let’s get to that 😁 Sneak Peek #1 There was once a cat who sat under a cherry tree in bloom, contemplating the flowers. “Do

New Author Store and Monthly Short Fiction Subscription!

Thea van Diepen

*waves excitedly* Hiiiiiii there are new things on the site! As of today, you’ll be able to buy my ebooks (and The Tree and the Grave) directly from me. The only things that won’t be in the store are anything published through a publisher, aka the Kitten Psychologist series and the short story “I Never Expected the Stars.” Otherwise, you’ll be able to get all of my stories directly from me! On top of that, you can now sign up

The Kitten Psychologist and the Kitten Come to a Conclusion

Thea van Diepen

(Just jumping in now? Read the previous installment, The Kitten Psychologist and What the Kitten Did, or start at the beginning with The Kitten Psychologist.) Both Worn Jeans and Green Shirt looked at me. “Well, I have been having a hard time getting patients.” I said. “How did you know?” “You told me about it. Before you knew I was sentient. And you’d told everyone else about it just before then, if not so bluntly as you did me.” The kitten glared

The Kitten Psychologist and What the Kitten Did

Thea van Diepen

(Just jumping in now? Read the previous installment, The Kitten Psychologist Tries to Be Patient via Email, or start at the beginning with The Kitten Psychologist.) Wednesday arrived, and 2:55pm found me in my office, sweating. I’ve really got to turn the heat down in this place. Oh. It is down. Well, crap. I’d cancelled my other appointments that day when it became clear partway through my first one that all I could think about was this one. This one in thirty

Glass

Thea van Diepen

Isabelle took off her glasses, squinting in an attempt to see the hand she held outstretched in front of her face. All that her eyes showed was a great blur. Frustrated, she returned the glasses to their accustomed place and stared at her fingers thoughtfully. ‘How could you think they are artist’s hands?’ her mother’s voice echoed through her mind. ‘It is quite obvious that they are a pianist’s hands. Anyone could see that.’ ‘It’s true,’ Isabelle’s father had agreed,