Fable
Echoes of the Raven
The night my husband drew his last breath, a raven perched itself on the windowsill, its obsidian eyes piercing into my soul. As Jonathan's life slipped away, the raven's haunting caw echoed through the room, a melancholic requiem bidding farewell to the man I loved.
By Tales by J.J.about a year ago in Fiction
The Commander, The Chief, and The Saviour
"Honestly, if brains were dynamite, I'd blow my foot off. Deliberately. With aplomb, dignity and blood draining from shrapnel-shaped holes. It's been an easy campaign run. Lots of rallies and salutes, though they know I've never served a damn day of my life. They were joyful. The love of this country. The sound of screams, shouts, and the sight of tears and smiles. People adorned in the brightest and boldest red.
By Paul Stewartabout a year ago in Fiction
Of Fire and Tide
The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished. The Lanterna mountains imploded, crashing into the ground - leaving behind only craters of soil and rock. Now devoid of sun, the flora and fauna that had once sustained the land wilted into nothing. The villagers began to starve. Many packed their belongings and moved onwards to more fruitful plains. Some died on the journey, others were lost to the harshness of the winter. Those that survived took root again but would wistfully remember the place that had been home. They would talk of the majestic Karianarga tree that would flower under the touch of the morning sun, leaving parcels of handtied food – succulent salifir meat, sweet mead cake and bottles of candied dew.
By River and Celia in Underland about a year ago in Fiction
Disunity, Chapter 1: The Chickenshit River . Content Warning.
The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished. It ran backwards because it was total chicken shit. A coward till the end, where we weren’t… well, I guess we were cowards, but only cowards for… well, a very long time actually.
By Sam Spinelliabout a year ago in Fiction
The Unpleasantness and Inconvenience of War
The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished. Then silence fell, and in time she was forgotten, as so often is the case in life. Hello, friend (or foe, I do not judge). The green valleys and hills, the crystal blue waters and the reverse waterfalls of the glorious kingdom soon adapted. Even the people, the great and the good, the insignificant and ne'er-do-wells, over time forgot. They became indifferent. Passion, mourning and fear of change were soon passed over for "getting on with it... life".
By Paul Stewartabout a year ago in Fiction
Showing me the magic
Years ago, in the vibrant city of Rio de Janeiro, there lived a young man named Pedro. Pedro worked at a prestigious marketing firm, but despite the outward success, he felt a constant undercurrent of dissatisfaction. He had been with the company for a few months, navigating a steep learning curve before settling into a routine. Yet, the nagging feeling that he was meant for something more wouldn’t leave him.
By Tales by J.J.about a year ago in Fiction
Blossoming in Our Own Time
A few years ago, I stumbled upon a book by Rich Karlgaard called Late Bloomers, The Power of Patience In A World Obsessed With Early Achievement. The title struck a chord with me, like an unexpected harmony that makes you pause and listen. I consider myself a late bloomer—a term Merriam-Webster describes as “someone who becomes successful, attractive, etc., at a later time in life than other people.” Apparently, I’m not alone; many people share this sentiment.
By Tales by J.J.about a year ago in Fiction
A Twist of Fate on a Midnight Train
It was during the summer of 2018 that Ana, a bright-eyed eighteen-year-old, returned to Brazil for her university studies. Her parents still lived in Europe, and she felt an overwhelming sense of homesickness in her first semester. Everything seemed daunting—adjusting to her new roommate, an aloof senior who barely acknowledged her presence, juggling the rigorous academic schedule, and adapting to the chaotic life in the student hostel. She found herself wondering how she would survive an entire year without seeing her parents. Adding to her woes, she had to endure the unofficially sanctioned hazing rituals of the first few weeks, which often left her in tears.
By Tales by J.J.about a year ago in Fiction
