Rambler's Society
Bio
Hello everyone! I write fictional surreal stories and poems. I love writing and I hope that you enjoy reading what I've to offer. I have plenty more written down on my website so I'd love it if you'd go check it out!
Stories (92)
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Magnolia rains
Bang! Bang! Thunder crashed leaving a silhouette of a couple spread across large oak church doors. Beaten down over time from rain, tears, and many ceremonies over the many years since these lightly decorated doors were raised by the founders of GreyStorm. Tapping her small feet as she walked as fast as she could at such an hour towards the front doors, Sister Allison was met with a small bundle of black hair. The thunder crashed again and with it, the wind started to pick up. The rain started thrashing in what felt like every direction, leaving the air grey and fuzzy for miles. This is why GreyStorm is named as such.
By Rambler's Society4 years ago in Fiction
My weird complicated love-hate relationship with weed
I’m sure we’ve been there at some point when in high school in between classes passing in between crowds of students and you get a whiff of that smell. It wasn’t even that strong usually unless they had it on them. The smell was in their clothes. I’m not sure if I’m alone in this, but that dank sometimes faint smell of weed made my heart pound and my senses focused, I felt so needy of it. The only problem is that I decided to indulge myself.
By Rambler's Society4 years ago in Potent
Midnight Lavender Fields
Cynthia Flabergast woke up with her mouth dryer than she had ever imagined. The fan, no both fans, were left on last night. The sun-kissed her cheeks with morning vitality, she wished it hadn't. In her mind, the thoughts raced back and forth like cars in traffic. Meanwhile, she could barely finish her tasks. Sit up. Stand up. Walk. Bathroom. Clothes. With every new sensation, a new line of thoughts ran through her head, slowing her even more. Her stomach grumbled. Her face still numb with sleep. Her toes stung from increased blood flow.
By Rambler's Society4 years ago in Fiction
The Story of the Swamp
Pothos stood with the tallest building being the city hall. It was one big open meeting hall in the center of town. With the highest ceilings, perfect for when the city had its very occasional meeting or the even more occasional visitor, the town hall was important to its inhabitants. The inhabitants of this small town took pride in the work they've put into making their lives prosper.
By Rambler's Society4 years ago in Fiction
The Tale of Two Brothers
The fog settled around the bog, displacing itself across the wet marshland. It concealed the ground and everything living on it, even the small houses for the tiniest of creatures. Just like clockwork, the beetles, mice, and birds emerged from their homes as the sun finally reached over the towering trees. It was officially morning. The cold winds blew softly. It stirred every soul from the hibernating slumber of the previous night. Soon, it would become more and more evidence of the avalanche of life about to fall amongst the land.
By Rambler's Society4 years ago in Fiction
A Walk Down Abbey Lane ch1
Here we go again. Round n round. The swirling pinks, purples, and pale blotches blended into a perfect mauve. A sigh. Then a click. Juniper unlocked her smoothie out of its holster. Tapping its beautiful contents out into her bright insulated cup. She brushed her hair out of her face and sniffled out the seasonal allergies from her sinus'. Juniper relaxed herself, took a sip from the straw in her smoothie, and wondered how she was going to fix the ever-increasing black hole in her living room.
By Rambler's Society4 years ago in Fiction
Entangled lives
“Howard! Have you seen my necklace?” A delicate voice rang out from the last door on the right. The silver bell of a voice was paired with a silver bell of a woman. The voice was accompanied by the sounds of brushing her long silky pale hair that shined like the full moon glowing at the highest point in the summer night skies. A soft diaphanous dressed woman sat at her vanity looking over herself for the hundredth time this evening. She was dressed in pale blues and greys that melted into one another when she moved. Her skin looked like porcelain without a bump, crease, or wrinkle out of place. Her face was long and slender but not without its beauty. Her hair was a pale yellow that glowed in the light. Part of it fell down her shoulder blade, like silk on her satin skin. The other part was held up being prepared for the late evening routine.
By Rambler's Society4 years ago in Fiction
