My giant old friends
The walls on the horizons
Call and I must go
About the Creator
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More stories from Tinka Boudit She/Her and writers in Poets and other communities.
Renaissance Festival War Stories: The Poisoned Pen Scroll 2022
I was hoping I wouldn't have to write this post this year. Oh, the optimism of youth. How wrong I was! Growth. Fourth weekend I saw him again: the lowest piece of slime. This year he had a super long pipe. Mr. Pretty-And-I-Know-It is now over compensating for something. I knew if I engaged with him it wouldn't be pretty. I pointed him out to another riddler letting them know I'm going to sit back for a bit, because if I riddle for this guy, it's not going to end well.
By Tinka Boudit She/HerExclusive • 3 years ago
Swan
“During the Metal Age, humans took photographs of everything beautiful, which was everything, yet machines did not even wear shoes. The Fauxna thought of a better way. They colored all of the light rose, for a corrupted source cannot be verified.” - Origin Parable, 011
By Nicky Franklya day ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
I love this so much