TrivialPunk
Bio
I'm a freelance writer that works on media campaigns. I've covered a range of topics for free, but I will accept commissions, if I believe in the work. The criteria I use is personal, but I mainly address social issues. I also tell stories!
Stories (15/0)
Anything You Could Imagine
A box could contain anything you can imagine. He’d been walking home from work when he spotted it on the park bench. It was seeping something. A slow, ichorous dribble ran down the side of its crumpled packaging. The rain had soaked it, and now, something dark was sweating out of its weakened seams.
By TrivialPunk3 years ago in Fiction
The Anniversary Gift
The Archival section of the library was guarded by two heavily armored droids with 35mm shoulder-mounted cannons and interlocking reflective plates that deflected energy-based attacks. Rust had barely tinged the edges of their ancient chassis. Sapphire was amazed that there were still two functioning units, but she knew they were vulnerable
By TrivialPunk3 years ago in Fiction
Solitude
Once more, I am uneasy. Night has come: it’s time to sleep. This doesn’t seem like a death knell, but my nights are different than those of anyone else I know. My dreams aren’t calming, gorgeous or restful. No visions of Elysium await. My nights are filled with a deep darkness. And always, there is scratching.
By TrivialPunk3 years ago in Fiction
The Labours of Hell
Some days we wake and wish we were dreaming; others we dream of nothing but being awake. Even with our eyes wide open, it is the best most of us can hope for. Yet, few are fortunate to have the blind-fold ripped away. Jeremy didn’t know it, but he was lucky that, on this particular night, he was afflicted by the first condition. His wife was away on business and he found himself tossing and turning in an empty bed, chasing sleep. Unfortunately, dreams can not find those who are already drifting.
By TrivialPunk3 years ago in Fiction
About a Ham Sandwich
Had it really only been a day? The morning had gone smoothly enough. It was almost picturesque, in a sense. Memories were stacked on top of images on top of memories and the days blurred together. Was he really remembering the morning before or was he remembering every morning?
By TrivialPunk3 years ago in Fiction
Pixies
We found a Way through. At first, we sent in a team of explorers and scientists, curious to document, study and understand. The realm of fairies furnished them with wonder and knowledge. We quickly learned that emotions, thoughts and feelings could be made manifest in one form or another. We were given paradise. We saw a resource.
By TrivialPunk3 years ago in Fiction
The Wheels on the Bus
Gas. Brake. Gas. Brake. One hand turns the other’s wheel. Jeremy spent most of his light-blue clad life repeating these motions over and over again. The days ran together, drifting between eighty-first and a hundredth street, from one building to the next. The rattling of change rang out an endless tune with a cheerful clink, a jangling clank and an ominous clunk.
By TrivialPunk3 years ago in Fiction