Tonya R. Moore

Joined December 2019

0 stories

Bio

Jamaican writer. Half-baked poet.

I write about dark stuff. I write about star stuff.

Achievements (1)

First Place in Microfiction Magic Challenge

Stories (16/0)

My Webnovel Experiment
You may… or may not have noticed that I haven’t been updating my space opera webserial The Lore of Hegira on VOCAL lately.
By Tonya R. Mooreabout a month ago in Writers
Fall
Parched leaves flap about in the wind beneath the hoary boughs; --- Spiny trees, robbed of fruit by the clawing cold,
By Tonya R. Moore2 months ago in Poets
The Short Story That Changed Me Irrevocably
One of my favorite stories of all time is The Foghorn, a short story written by Ray Bradbury. Summary Bradbury's sea monster, perhaps the last of its kind, inhabits the depths of the ocean surfacing only to respond to the nostalgic call of the foghorn. It cries out in futility, trying to communicate with the foghorn which it has mistaken for another of its kind. Eventually, perhaps disappointed, the monster sinks back down into the deep and swims away all alone.
By Tonya R. Moore2 months ago in Art
The Quiet One
I remember sitting on my uncle’s verandah as a kid, watching Star Trek through the living room’s glass-paned window. I remember the voice of Captain Jean Luc Picard speaking of exploring strange, new worlds, seeking out new civilizations, and boldly going where no one had gone before.
By Tonya R. Moore2 months ago in Art
Dragon's Dream
In an old story, a dragon once dreamed of falling to Earth from the heavens. My granny told me, “that’s because there are memories within people that can never be erased.”
By Tonya R. Moore2 months ago in Fiction
In the Making
St. John didn’t know why she was there, in that brightly lit place. She was naked, laid out flat on her back on the freezing exam table like a corpse prepped for an autopsy.
By Tonya R. Moore3 months ago in Fiction
Lightning
If I am struck down, let it be by a thought so magnificent it changes the shape and texture of the universe; If I am broken,
By Tonya R. Moore3 months ago in Poets
Shelter
Twilla’s Beast was hollow-bellied. The lumbering juggernaut, a comfy shelter custom-built for her. Light years away from home, they were fighting a war waged in outer space.
By Tonya R. Moore4 months ago in Fiction
Tribute
Rasta man gone astray, the devout artist had adopted flesh for his canvas. Everything about him was dark, the curl of his brows, and even his countenance when he eased back and stood, studying his handiwork.
By Tonya R. Moore4 months ago in Fiction
The Erosion and Reclamation of Self-Worth
When I was growing up, an adult told me: “You were born with three strikes against you; you’re a girl, you’re black, and you’re poor.”
By Tonya R. Moore5 months ago in Psyche
Time Travel
Time travel is what we call the notion of moving from one point in time to another, by means other than simply existing throughout the passage of time. If my present self were to somehow physically visit the past or the future, I would have achieved time travel.
By Tonya R. Moore5 months ago in Futurism
Top Story - June 2023
Santa AnnaTop Story - June 2023
In the country, we collected rainwater in metal drums. We’d cover them with squares of aluminum weighed down with stones. We kept five drums in the backyard where someone had planted yams and bananas, among other things. I feared the banana trees, suspecting that at their roots where it was cold and dark, fat slugs were always lurking.
By Tonya R. Moore5 months ago in Fiction