T. S. Babiak
Stories (2)
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The Pale Face of Reincarnation
I saw in the darkness, beyond the wall of trees and greenery, the hole to my home. Standing still as stone, my paws clawed into the chilly dirt beneath me. Shrubbery concealed me. Peering out beyond the leaves towards the open of the cold forest, I feared it could see my every twitch. Running was the only choice. My abode called me forth. Everyone I’d ever loved was deep in the dirt, waiting for me.
By T. S. Babiak4 years ago in Fiction
Before the Void
“I don’t believe in equal freedoms. The strong eat the weak. Only the best must be selected,” the patient states as he gets injected in his left-side chest and up his right sinus. He lays naked on the table with his limbs outstretched. The body emits an odour that implies the patient has an inactive lifestyle, and only bathes an estimated every four days.
By T. S. Babiak5 years ago in Fiction
