“Among the cloaked figures, a woman throws kindling at the feet of an old crone tied to the stake. A faceless Witch-Hunter, she averts her eyes from the accusatory glares, soundlessly delivers the final rites.”
All in Fiction
“Among the cloaked figures, a woman throws kindling at the feet of an old crone tied to the stake. A faceless Witch-Hunter, she averts her eyes from the accusatory glares, soundlessly delivers the final rites.”
“Life was quite lonely at first as a wall. Sure, I was accompanied by the specks of dust that hung tightly onto the little mishaps in the paint job, but it wasn't much. They never said anything to me, only focused on tightly holding onto me so that they wouldn't fall down to the floor. I can't quite tell how long I lived like this, nor do I really want to remember it in the first place. You know how awfully lonely being lonely can get, don't you?”
Spring has arrived at last. This winter was longer than those of years long past. This winter was cold and dark. I was alone. I was afraid. But not to worry, spring is here, winter is over. Oh, maybe this year I’ll find a four leaf clover, my dear.
Are you in the mood for a short piece of fiction, that’s utterly sarcastic and witty at times? The Worst Unimaginable is a stream of consciousness and semi-narrative palimpsest that will keep you quite entertained.
[Begin apocalypse log #59]
Date = corrupted
Battery = <35%
!!Error = Left limb status non-functional, contact maintenance
Log purpose = “I love the small one for offering mouth storage items to the quiet one. Showcasing human emotion.”
Video = active Sound = active Speech = disabled
She could hear the whistles of the trains coming and going, but the deafening roar of a crowd had not reached her yet. The crisp air around her smelled like the looming winter, but that did not matter to her anymore. She was free at last.
It’s a weird era to live in. When the last pandemic hit a few generations ago, everything changed. Of course, this is not in any of the history books. We only hear whispers of the days we cannot even begin to imagine. My grandmother used to tell me how her mother lived quite a different life.