DOMINION (GREED)
Bio
In a world overflowing with content, I offer something different—a moment of depth. My words are crafted to stir your heart, to ignite your imagination, and to linger in your mind. I don’t just tell stories; I create connections.
Stories (9)
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Fragments of Nothing
Once, there was a man named Jacob, and once, he had everything. A house that smelled of fresh bread and old books, a wife named Clara who filled the rooms with warmth, and a son, Liam, whose laughter was the melody that played through their every morning. Jacob had dreamed once—dreamed of growing old beside Clara, watching Liam’s first steps, his first words, his first heartbreak.
By DOMINION (GREED)about a year ago in Poets
The House of Forgotten Songs
The house had stood at the edge of the woods for as long as anyone could remember, its windows clouded and its walls weathered by time. It had always been a place of mystery, its presence whispered about but rarely approached. They said it was empty, but when Anna stepped inside, the air felt alive—like it was holding its breath, waiting for her.
By DOMINION (GREED)about a year ago in Fiction
WHERE YOU LEFT ME
You found me on a quiet, moonlit night, a time so soft it felt like a sigh. The stars hung low in a sky so deep it seemed endless, and I looked at you and felt the weight of forever press into my chest. In that quiet, you held my hand as though you’d never let go, fingers interwoven with mine like threads that could not be unraveled. You told me that we had time, that there would be mornings and evenings, laughter, warmth, the kind of life you read about but hardly dare to believe is real. And with my heart trembling, I believed you.
By DOMINION (GREED)about a year ago in Poets
YELLOW AND PURPLE PROSE
Imagine the scene: a small cottage, perched high on the cliff’s edge, weather-beaten and stoic against the backdrop of a stormy sea. The air smells of salt, with a crispness that clings to every breath. In this cottage, an older woman named Ella lives alone. Her life is shaped by routine, as constant as the waves below her windows.
By DOMINION (GREED)about a year ago in Fiction
Archetype
In a village wrapped in the arms of an ancient forest, where the trees stood like silent sentinels and the air hummed with the memories of those long gone, stories were everything. They were passed down like heirlooms, whispered in the dark, carried on the winds, and held close to the heart. And in every story, no matter the teller, one figure always appeared—the Mother.
By DOMINION (GREED)about a year ago in Humans
Tropical storm warning
There’s a stillness before it comes, a silence so profound that even the trees seem to stop their swaying, as if aware of something looming just beyond the edge of sight. The sky, once awash in soft blue, now churns with ominous clouds, heavy and swollen, gathering in thick layers. It’s the kind of sky that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, that makes you feel the weight of the earth beneath your feet. A sky that speaks of what’s to come.
By DOMINION (GREED)about a year ago in Earth
