Anastasia Rice
Stories (2)
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To Frisk the Feathers of Oath
Feathers Do Not Fight the Wind for Flight There is a place where extraordinary actions took hold. Thus, earning its locus amongst the rest. A daring cliff holding grand posture that to a mortal soul with eyes of greed, overlooking fear, the man would build their home to their god. However, this particular being wasn’t the first having capabilities to see their wisdom etched into stone. Feathers do not fight the wind for flight.
By Anastasia Rice4 years ago in Fiction
The Tortured War
The Tortured War By: AKR Paykato Running, like water not always fast but always running. That was us. We were the water. Only, the contaminated water of running bodies that run no more. A water that no one dare sips, water used only to catch those who catch their fates. We dug their trenches. We sharpened their spikes, laid down their bedding, we balanced those ledges on both sides of the river. If they didn’t perish from the first isle of splintering spikes, they would certainly meet their match from the second. The defecated river would only consume you in time once seeping into the festering wounds opened by the water's teeth. Well...That was the story told. Most of it is true except the cruel treatment of the slaves and the hungry river. The tactics for the river were much cleverer. Sharpening every stone to a slicing edge alongside the spikes. Precautionary measures took hours, but everyone was forced to endure the times.
By Anastasia Rice4 years ago in Fiction
