Blanca Nino
Bio
just me
Stories (3/0)
The Necromancer
“How long has he been dead?” I ask the woman in front of my door. Her face glistening from the frozen tears on her face, she clasps a worn blanket over her shoulders. She wears an old threadbare gray dress underneath, barely enough to contend with the frigid cold outside. Her eyes are wide as she looks at me, but it’s as if she is looking past me.
By Blanca Nino9 months ago in Fiction
The Tree
Plop...plop The sound of drops hitting the water wakes me up. My head is laying on its side, the awkward position makes my neck ache. It smells like rain and dirt, brings back memories of playing in the rain with my brothers and sisters. A knot forms in my throat when I think of them, but I don’t know why. As I open my eyes I see roots of a grandiose tree covering the ground almost completely, the small spaces of ground left filled with water. I can still hear the sound of drops near me. I look up, investigating where the drops might come from but they don't seem to originate from the sky or the tree. Then I feel warmth trickling from my forehead to my mouth. It tastes like iron.
By Blanca Nino9 months ago in Fiction
Rust
The salty ocean water rots all things, even humans. It turns us rough and deformed. People say in the beginning the ocean was all there was, that it is where we came from. The ocean was just reclaiming what was hers when she decided to submerge us once more.
By Blanca Nino11 months ago in Fiction
