Marysol Vida
Bio
Writing - is my purpose. I feel elated when my thoughts assume shapes, and turn into Timberwolves, running through the snowbound planes of fresh paper to sink into it in the black ink of their blood
Stories (33/0)
The Incomparable Maritime Jollies
Foreword: Dear Lubber, If you picked up this scroll to read the fables about the untamable sea monsters and otherworldly riches, ethereal ghouls and the divine mermaidens, you will be saltily disappointed: Because it is, actually, the mermaidens, who are quite untamable.
By Marysol Vida28 days ago in Chapters
Nague and the snow
I cried for three days when I first saw the snow. On the first day I shed my tears out of fear. On the second day my eyes were wet because I was cold. On the third day my tears poured because I saw people poisoning the snow with salt, and my village didn’t have any water.
By Marysol Vida6 months ago in Fiction
