Running,
running,
I'm always running,
when I stop the floor below me falls away again,
and again,
and again.
I've learned to go through the cycle
allowing myself to drift through time and space.
where a man competes for pointless affection.
where children grow old and sad.
where the scariest things in the world are horseflies and dead men.
I'm tired of drifting,
of not understanding
the quiet mutters in my brain turning me into a hopeless creature.
The day something interesting happens
I'll fly from this realm
back into reality,
perhaps as a hero, or a monster
At least I'm living
and the cycle can continue through my eyes alone.
goodbye,
old friend,
new enemy,
and all in-between
the sky and the ground.
truly yours, The Soulless
About the Creator
Qwill R. Brennan
I write stories, not much to say. I enjoy playing with reality. Writing more weird stories like twilight zone-type stuff. I’ve recently been diving into horror as of late.
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How the Harvest Mouse Came to Suisun Bay
A long, long time ago there was a family of harvest mice. Mice are common, but these were unique – born to those who had lived in the salty, marshy bay for many generations, these mice ate and drank from the sea as well as the land and rivers. For generations, there were only the southern families, scattered along the marshes of Corte Madera and in the San Francisco Bay (U.S. Fish & Wildlife, 2013). One family, however, would undergo strife and conflict before reaching a whole new world. What became of them after is another tale entirely – but this is how their story begins.
By Taylor Inman6 days ago in Fiction
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