figments
The books grew wild here. Untamed. You only needed to look out the window to see the various species dotting the landscape. The beautiful, delicate petals of poetry,…
Very well, my child, very well. I think you are of age now to hear the one story I have dared not tell you before. This is the…
Gina was crouched on the ground feeding the campus squirrels when she got a call from her friend Adira. The squirrels looked at her like she was crazy,…
Content Warnings: discussions of death, off-screen death The souls of butterflies smell the nicest. They’re small sparkling puffs of memories: simple moments of flying amongst emerald blades of…
Plants told better stories than people. Virn liked to collect their tales like bugs in a jar. He’d often show them off to the village folk who…
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