Andra river
Bio
I love experimenting accross different styles and themes to tell stories that inspire, though most of my work is pathos-driven. when i'm not writing i'm either watching anime or sleeping.
Stories (16)
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A writer’s bouquet
I’d like to hand you a bouquet so exquisite, in hopes to see you smile once more. I’ll start by placing a bunch of Lilies, because even though you make my world shine as bright as the yellow of a sunflower, the warmth I feel from your gaze is unmatched, you are my ardor.
By Andra river8 months ago in Poets
The Room With No Door
Elijah had always known there was something wrong with the room. No matter how many times he sat in its silence, the walls pressed in on him. There were no windows, no doors—nothing to suggest that it was part of anything at all. The air inside always felt thicker, as if it were made of something heavier than just dust. It wasn't a physical weight, but something intangible, something mental, like he was trapped in a space where nothing could change.
By Andra river9 months ago in Psyche
where the light faded
I’ve been struggling with the meaning of love, trying to understand its similarity with dependency. Lately, I find myself evading my reality by drowning in thoughts of you—of us. I’ve been struggling to comprehend why it’s only easy to fall asleep when I’m thinking of you and nothing else, why I block out my reality, barricaded by daydreams.
By Andra river9 months ago in Psyche
The hollow that held me.. Content Warning.
I met you last summer, a season that had long overstayed its welcome, its oppressive heat mirroring the turmoil within me. You pried me from the cellar I had dug inside my mind—a damp, root-tangled space whose walls were studded with jars of pickled screams, each jar containing echoes of my past, preserving the moments that shaped my solitude.
By Andra river9 months ago in Psyche
Under The Lid. Content Warning.
The kitchen was thick with steam, windows fogged, and every burner alive. Oil crackled. A timer blared and was silenced with the back of her flour-dusted wrist. She rocked the baby on her hip, shifting her weight from foot to foot, trying to hum something—anything—to calm the wailing.
By Andra river9 months ago in Fiction
The Houses Odyssey
I strolled past the empty house, Its shadow hunched like a forgotten question. I walked past it again, Rain blurring its windows into eyes holding back tears. On my third pass, I paused, Staring until my breath matched its silence. Its loneliness felt familiar— A dialect I’d spoken all my life.
By Andra river9 months ago in Poets
