From warm tobacco,
smoke plumes like wisps,
blurring blue eyes.
About the Creator
Rhi
A little quirky, a little sad and in love with a good story. Fantasy novella's and detailed saga's are my cup of tea. I enjoy late autumns, early springs and lots of naps. Living as a hermit, I am pretty friendly, just endlessly shy.
Smart phones, Humans and Aliens.
WARNING. I will be tapping into one of your favorite creative tensions: The absurdity of humans worshipping their glowing rectangles as if they were tiny oracles. There’s something deliciously poetic about that contradiction, and it lends itself beautifully to an instructive proviso.
By Novel Allen7 days ago in Poets
The Path to Salvation
The late autumn evening air filled the monk's lungs, but it wasn't the season that chilled his bones. The heavy-handed presence of evil he had sensed upon entering the woods surrounding this mountain village had not bothered to conceal itself from him.
By Made in DNAa day ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.