Victor Verdun is fifty years old. He sits at his desk, thinking and despondent.
Candles The sun rose over a dismal scene. As he lies there, quiet and unbreathing, it struck me how my brother could even in…
For my brother
Writing Training Following Ursula K. Le Guin’s Guidance 📖 📚
After a war. How can you ever get better? Will the pain ever go away? Can you... heal?
Tumor, tu meurs Like budding petals of a fleur. Tumor, tu meurs Like a languidly beating Coeur. Tumor... Tu meurs Like the mots of passants. Tu meurs, tumor Like the life of mes parents. Tumor, je meurs So be it, il était temps. Tu meurs, ils pleurent These are the tears des enfants. Tôt le…
Scary, funny short poem.
[...] Bramin, walking up drawn-out alleyways, carried a flyssa sword on his back ; a green-white pearl bracelet gifted to him by his mother ; a satchel leather bag with a long-gilded strap, which allowed enough room for flexible movements. That was why he wore it, as he was fully aware of the dangers which…