Once a Sorceress visited me one Summer night. Her smile was gentle, her halo glowing bright. She warned of a evil and to leave my warm bed, for the eye of a warlock wishes me to never wed. Could this be the Chef who I feed at the virtual farm? I speak the truth, she uttered, do not be alarmed. He takes all the meatballs, sausage and stew, then brews them in a pot to make you blue. No man will come when he casts the spell. Older you become, making you unwell. What shall I do? I need a love in life. Feeling dismayed at this terrible strife. Boil some cabage, and I’ll seal it in my jar. Then I’ll take it to heavens brightest star. I did as she instructed, as she opened the gate. Now I sit with a candle at supper and wait and wait.
About the Creator
Ocusan M
I write in a surrealistic style learning new realities as i researched Quantum physics in Quantum Dreaming where the man had a Quantum computer in his home that could see into the future.
My Tous les Jours Trip
As someone who lives in a rural area, I don't get the chance to visit fancy restaurants or bakeries that often. So, when a friend told me about a French-Asian bakery that's less than an hour away, I knew I had to check it out and grab some pictures for social media. Tous les Jours ended up providing an immersive experience that went above and beyond my expectations--although I did leave with a few reservations.
By Kaitlin Shanks19 days ago in Feast
The Dryads are Calling
They say the forest by Phoenix River sings. Perhaps it is just the wind howling through the leaves, or a particular birdsong. But Percy Fisher knows better; he knows what lies in those woods, and he knows that the forest sings of his demise.
By Leigh Hooperabout 17 hours ago in Fiction
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