Hywel Latimyr
Bio
I kinda suck at writing but I enjoy it
Anyway, here's a dumb little haiku:
The gunslinger draws
His opponent does the same
oh dear, they both died
Achievements (1)
Stories (149/0)
The Warm waters in the Winter Winds
He left Isabelle’s house in disgrace that night. Her husband was home a night earlier than she cared or remembered to mention. Ian was left in a dire situation, it was mid-November, and in his rush to escape the husband’s wrath he had left his coat at Isabelle’s house. He looked back for a moment at the house. Staring at the giant flagpole that greeted anyone who visited or even passed by this house in West Baldwin. The Triskelion proudly displayed on a red background; the flag was flying easy with the early winter winds begging to pick up speed from the ever-strong Late Autumn winds. It was 22:00 and therefore pitch-black outside. Ian had to make the hour long walk from West Baldwin towards his house share in Little Switzerland. He could only wish that his house in Little Switzerland was anything close to this guy’s house. Isabella had driven them both to her house, with her car being worth more the house Ian was renting a room in. The husband’s car was more valuable than everything Ian had ever owned or earnt combined.
By Hywel Latimyr2 years ago in Fiction
Sister
The Pond at the local park, just a couple of blocks away from the hospital, would freeze over every winter. It’s little sleep before it was to wake up again in spring. I was standing by the pond, looking at the frozen surface, wondering if it could sustain my body wait… and if I wanted it to.
By Hywel Latimyr3 years ago in Fiction
Marigold dreams
It was a warm summer day; the fields had a gentle breeze blowing them in a peaceful way. This is so romantic, Anthony thought to himself, she’ll love this! Anthony laid out a blanket on the floor, and had a basket ready with bread, cheese and a botte of red wine. Hiding inside the basket was a marigold flower, with an engagement ring hidden under the flower bud.
By Hywel Latimyr3 years ago in Fiction
Shāyú! Shāyú!
Another strong gust of wind managed to slam Robyn to the deck of the ship, it was the 8th time now on this voyage alone. They had set sail only two hours ago. Robyn didn’t much like the sea, or fish, or even the outdoors for that matter. You could even say she hated them. Yet here she was, stuck on a fishing boat in the middle of a small storm. Robyn doesn’t care to get up, rather just accepts that she needs some time just sitting on the deck, trying not to be seasick from the waves rocking the boats in any direction they felt like.
By Hywel Latimyr3 years ago in Fiction
Half a day
Half a day By Hywel Latimyr Tsmugi wanders around the streets surrounding Paddington station, a ritual she seems all so complacent with in recent weeks. She likes to watch as the strange people who also seem to just wander the streets on London like herself potter around with their lives. She notices the man on his phone, with his hands-free device of course, waffling something or rather about plans for a party, with a coffee in had as you do. The old lady across the street, lecturing who Tsmugi assumed was her grandson, about how he should not forget about his studies just because this English woman took his heart. She spoke with a strong accent, which Tsmugi assumed was from somewhere in the West Indies. The lad, however, spoke like how you would hear Londoners speak in American movies. Then there was the little girl and her mother, the girl excited to be getting on a train. She could not have been any older than four, maybe five years old. Her mother just looked tired, as most mothers to young children do.
By Hywel Latimyr3 years ago in Fiction