Fantasy
Pen Game
She loves my pen game. I wrote to her because she stamped my day. So many songs I wrote for her to sing my way. So many poems I wrote for me to get my point to her the homing pigeon stays on its way. Now that I’m in the light again I’m building a tip centered on how our love can extended my inks on point under the lights I will have a ball again. Our date night exclusive a special showing a toast to out connection my pen game did the sowing. It has my feelings always growing when I looked at her my stack of papers started growing. I wrote with more depth here eyes showed more height. Because i kept her intrigued and reaching for me to excite. She loved all my first showings. As the ink paved what my mouth delayed. I offered my best creations that helped seal a lot of her rainy days and bad forecast from the past. But most of all I saw her potential which was beside me on our beautiful signed and delivered wedding day. She loved my pens closing words this is the note you are reading today. I sent it to her with a heart in the most meaningful way. My ideas stood beside me before we walked down they relished being on display and my smile did to that day.
By Arlo Wysee3 months ago in Fiction
Stir the Blood 🐺
The man is stark naked, but that's not the first thing you notice about him. Not even if you might have had a lifetime of longing and whatifs trailing out behind you like an unused wedding train. To the point any romantic or lustful tendencies long since atrophied, and your greatest satisfaction is ensuring every strand of hair in your tight bun is placed with military, even geometric precision.
By L.C. Schäfer3 months ago in Fiction
A Tale of Knighthood
This story is set in the world of Warhammer Fantasy, and is a joint endeavor between Neal Litherland and Sam Furlano. They called this place the Swamp of Sorrow. A sucking mire of standing water and grasping mud, skeletal trees spread their bony branches wide to blot out the sky, and their snarling roots sought to snare any who would try to wade past. Black, biting flies filled the air, droning as they swarmed anything with hot blood pumping through its veins. Scaled creatures moved in the darkness, cutting through the water with quiet splashes that left nothing but ripples in their wakes.
By Neal Litherland3 months ago in Fiction
The Woodland's Child
I’m jealous of her. I know I best not; I should be happy that the woman remains a part of my life, but I can’t help but envy the practices of my mother. Everything comes so naturally to her: the plantings, the rituals, the contacting - I would do anything to have the same ease.
By caitodoesstuff3 months ago in Fiction
A Fantasy Artist's Sunday Morning Musings and Drawings
Fairies are everywhere. And they are not human, nothing remotely close to us. They resemble us the way a dolphin resembles a fish - same, more-or-less fishy body plan - similar sleek, water-adapted forms. Just ignore the fact that dolphins and whales evolved fairly recently (in the grand scheme of things) from furry dog-like animals in the river valleys of ancient Pakistan who had decided to become fully-aquatic.
By Brian Loo Soon Hua3 months ago in Fiction
The Cold Comfort
The flavor hits the sensory cells of the tongue’s papillae, and suddenly, I am floating in the clouds. It was a hot summer afternoon. After walking in the sun for hours — shirt soaked, surrounded by a suffocating flood of people — I spotted an ice cream parlor. I have never been a particularly devoted fan of ice cream. But that afternoon, the ice in the cream was icing and was simply calling my name, and I answered.
By Elizabeth Agyeman Prempeh3 months ago in Fiction
