Every grain is a second forgiven.
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The Moon’s Whisper
Darkness is only its pause.
By GoldenSpeech5 months ago in Chapters
3:10 to Ingoldmells, Chapter Two
On leaving the joke shop Pat led Juniper a short way to a district which he said was perfect for what they had in mind, though she was out of her depth as to why. There was a building whose double-door was made of elaborately carved wood and covered just the middle part of the doorway, through which only adult spectres seemed permitted to pass. This they were doing in extremely jolly fashion, whilst outside was a contrivance more outlandish still to Mini-Flash Juniper. Roofed by an awning it was wide rather than high, and populated by lurching mannequins which bawled a steady incoherent spiel. Child-phantoms were popping ineffectually away at these with guns far larger and cruder still than the one Juniper had purchased, and to all appearances enjoying the experience heartily.
By Doc Sherwood7 days ago in Chapters
Thirty (one) and Neither Flirty nor Thriving.
I'm thirty-one and orbiting the same few mistakes like they're landmarks. London is already awake before I am (or before I've slept) - sirens somewhere far enough to ignore, buses sighing at stops, people moving with purpose I can't quite borrow. I lie there for a bit, tasting last night at the back of my throat, trying to remember if I meant to drink that much or if it just...happened again.
By Stacey Vella3 days ago in Psyche
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