Microfiction
Goblet of Mercy
They picked me out of a bunch, took me in, gave me a home. They spoke of pristine promises and light without the flame. I forged their every move, worshiped them, drained for them. I did as much as my human flesh could endure. As I laid upon my king's lap, tired and brittle, I drank from the goblet of mercy. The next day I am to be destined as more than this vessel; I am to be a queen.
By Ashley Wrigley3 years ago in Fiction
Dead On A Walkabout
Why was I walking through a cemetery? Even I couldn't answer that question. For whatever reason, I was wandering through a cemetery on a Saturday night. Hating cemeteries for years, I scratched my head over my predicament. All I could do was follow the path and find my car.
By Jason Ray Morton 3 years ago in Fiction








