Tag: microfiction (Page 1 of 5)

'Welling up from the waters when the world twists and turns and thrusts, shaping its slipping surfaces, these shifting stones slide from the surf to stand aloft, above the washing waves, only to be worn and wasted away by the eternal ascent and ebb of the oceans below.' https://t.co/Is1VVAD9T7

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 30, 2020

'Oh little house within the clouds, beyond the heavens that mist shrouds, will you wander upon the breeze, or will you land upon the seas? Who do you hold behind your bars, secured from land and sky and stars? Oh little house that flies so high, who is trapped alone to cry?' https://t.co/rEIdcuhmn0

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 30, 2020

'Beware! What has lived can live again, but what has died can commit no sin. (There's a law for that.) What wanders the waters seeking out life, that once possessed but lost it in strife, that seeks for justice in the form of death, can smell your blood and your breath.' https://t.co/DR3pOMwPgF

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 30, 2020

'Magnificence defined, crest, cowl, and crown of command, decked with treasures from far and wide, emblazoned with the raiment of attainment, forged in the fiercest fires, these adornments spoke authority and power. Unfortunate that all who wore them after the first were fools.' https://t.co/LDV2jExbKs

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 30, 2020

'She wandered closer when others ran, she watched it intently as it screamed and searched for something. All that inspired fear in others only drew her interest and drew her nearer. When she spoke to it, she did not tremble, for she knew what it was seeking, and why it cried.' https://t.co/DkB39OotrR

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 30, 2020

'Hers was a reluctant farewell. She did not really wish to leave this life behind, but she had grown and she had changed, and she was no longer suited to her old life, her old world with all its familiar comforts and dangers. No, she had a new life now, and she must move on. ' https://t.co/cFn7owOZIC

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 29, 2020

'They were disturbed by what they found. Yes they had come to the fallen city to study to seek the secrets of a celebrated society which ruled the world for so long, but the very success they envied troubled them, that such heights could be attained and yet still come to naught.' https://t.co/jpN575FWcY

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 27, 2020

'The old ways marked by the old signs lay abandoned, untended and unknown in the modern world. The rites and rituals of ancient ancestors are no longer spoken, not even whispered by the elders, casualties of newer cults, their guarded mysteries lie dead.'https://t.co/NZZcyIQRh7

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 27, 2020

'Everyone imagined the end would come by our own hand. Some stupid society would go off the rails, or religion would obliterate everything in the name of their gods, or our own hubris and insatiable greed would ruin our world. Few foresaw fire from above.'https://t.co/tlnPRxj5BD

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 27, 2020

'They warned him of the wolves, they called them demons of death, devils of danger. All feared the beasts and hid in their homes when the howls arose at night. But he sought them out and earned their trust and learned their ways. Now he was their leader.'https://t.co/A3UiRwJCVQ

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 27, 2020

'We must take time to cleanse our souls and minds of all the worries and cares that populate our days, we must seek solitude and serenity in the sparkling springs, in the remote resting places that allow us to renew, to reinvigorate, to reclaim our health and well being.' https://t.co/cjuyAzcuBW

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 25, 2020

The problem with immortality, the true dilemma of surviving millennia, incapable of dying no matter how damaged, how distraught your mortal coil became, the question of continuance in some shattered state, staggering about as you wish for the release of the grave, is daunting.' https://t.co/vPdtaeFZkw

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 25, 2020

'It would take all their considerable powers to rebuild, if even they could determine the cause of the calamity. The land was shrouded in the ash and smoke still, even months after, and the land itself still heaved in anger. Perhaps it was time to move on, rebuild somewhere new.' https://t.co/l563lmkvCg

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 25, 2020

'The old ways were decaying, corroding and crumbling as they fell into disuse, as new paths were forged, more efficient and cleaner gates to other worlds. The old ways were failing now, fading from memory as they fell into disuse and disrepair, without purpose, soon forgotten.' https://t.co/bGkp0Ervuc

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 25, 2020

'Mighty towers built upon stones, mighty cities built upon bones, mighty empires fashioned from blood, mighty men fashioned from mud, mighty systems built out of cash, mighty wonders built out of ash, mighty mankind refusing to learn, mighty species destined to burn.' https://t.co/xX10RMtVIS

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 25, 2020

'The ancient rites bore little resemblance to reality anymore. The world was changing all about, and the runes and sigils no longer summoned the spirits, no longer bore answers to guide them in their time of troubles. Still, there was little else to do but continue the rituals.' https://t.co/fN3XE7u3WB

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 25, 2020

'Wild spirits of yesterday, sweet specters of land and ley, of glens and dells that do not decay, would you come out to play today? There was once wonder where now there is wood, there now is city where nature once stood. Please just be aslumber, of spirits of wild wonder….' https://t.co/YDY3Gb07b8

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 25, 2020

'The timing of the tides is the rhythm of the oceans, seeming syncopation of swell and surf crash in cacophony breaking upon beaches, measuring the moments the moon makes its mark upon the surface of the seas. As regular as the turning of the skies and the rotation of the stars.' https://t.co/j0zrhnf4BU

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 25, 2020

'Fool to the wise or wise among fools, few could tell the nature of the new messiah. He embraced all faiths, at least a little bit, just enough to appeal to their flocks. He spoke peace when he was powerless, less when his following grew. He spoke nonsense, but they listened.' https://t.co/tJujTVDKmM

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 25, 2020

'A bright beacon upon the banks, guiding ships with little thanks, built by those who ply the shores to save ships from crashing by scores. Oh flaming pharos amidst the waves, lonely shepherd for those it saves, aiding with but light to cast, a signal of civilization at last.' https://t.co/0Bl4gPaJnq

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 25, 2020

'She stood there, staring in silent, stark terror at the sight. The runestones were glowing, but this did not startle her, as they always glowed this color in the winter. No, it was the sprouting of the dark red leaves upon the tree that had always been dead that scared her now.' https://t.co/3bAuJxHqDM

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 25, 2020

'Behold, mere mortal, craven creature of the living realm, behold your guide to the hereafter! It dares you to flee, knowing you will not. It dares you to tremble, knowing you can do little else. Follow this specter to what awaits you, but expect no mercy from your escort.' https://t.co/gVBykhCTay

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 25, 2020

'He could barely see from under his treasured helm. It had taken him years of training and more years of hunting to attain the trophy and now he wore it wherever he went, whomever he fought, even if it got in the way. It was his first real kill as a hero, and he wore it proudly.' https://t.co/bPS9smsxaN

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 25, 2020

'Ancient dells and glens afar
seldom care from whence ye are
they'll receive ye just as well
when you've no more tales to tell.

Death awaits all who breathe,
matters not ye writhe or seethe,
when it is your time to die,
You'll have no pause to whine or cry.' https://t.co/f9mxehhUHY

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020

'The isle of the tree had been there longer than any kingdom known to scholars, longer than man had known this land at all. The island stood in the middle of the bay, alone and untouched out of respect for the spirits. There was only the one tree, reborn from time to time.' https://t.co/4EHnXt9p53

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020

'Is this all there is to life? Scramble, struggle, suffer, subsist, survive, succor, succeed, support another round of our own kind to rise and repeat it all again, forever and ever hereafter? Surely there must be something else, anything else than this endless toil to life…' https://t.co/TTPMh3ZHbo

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020

'Another world made from the mists, another spinning sphere in space, another in an endless array of energy and matter scattered through the firmaments, each unique but still so much alike. Still the god did not bore of the work, more a mindless tick than a task, an instinct…' https://t.co/Ougu7WsyK6

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020

'The bridge of the gods was a wonder to behold, and the center of so many stories told of local legends and their patron deities, each grander than the last. But each tale had to account for the span of space that was not there, absent like all the gods who allegedly created it.' https://t.co/s5sxAwz2aL

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020

'The symphony of the sky and sea, conducted each day from dawn to dusk, was set to the staccato cadence of surf on shore, each crest a crescendo, every crash upon the cliffs a climax, accompanied as always by the squawk and squall of the tremulous terns and glutenous gulls.' https://t.co/D8Yyo8i7sZ

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020

'So many crosses upon the hill, some to save, some to kill. So many markers of mortal men, so many lives lost once again, lain down in the name of their lord, how many deaths can one god afford? So many lifetimes thrown away, so few few survivors left to stay.' https://t.co/fHFRfHYeBd

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020

'Hope springs anew in the land of the repressed, in the land of past prosperity and dying dreams. For far too long have they suffered under the growing cloud of fear and fiery fanaticism, as those they once knew as friends turned to foes. But now at long last, hope has returned.' https://t.co/GiVNOfZtnN

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020

'We wonder at the whispers in the woods each night, the scratches and screeches that shatter the stillness filling the forest with fear. The stranger startles, but those that dwell within the dells just stoke their fires and shutter their windows against the scary sounds.' https://t.co/usn3beq1vw

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020

'Red sky at night, all sailors delight. Red sky in morning, the same take warning. Should red moon bleed, all mages take heed, should skies shake and tremble, all wizards assemble. Green gasses greet, abandon square and street, Green skies muster, undead soon cluster.' https://t.co/0Um7yGLpqN

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020

'When withers the world tree, wonder not the cause of the corruption. When decays and dies the lofty leaves of life, ponder not the poison nor the polluter. When the shade is shattered and the branches break, believe it could have been averted, that it is only us to blame.' https://t.co/3t3EHRjX0X

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020

'It is not mobile motes of dust or dander that captures the concentration of cats. They do not hunt and stalk the mundane shadows we can see, but rather the spectral sprites that only their keen eyes can perceive. They guard us from the crafty creatures we cannot comprehend.' https://t.co/w8OV03N74X

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020

'The sun slew the shadows but briefly each spring season, slicing through the shade in the stone corridors her ancestors had carved into cliffs so long ago. But the beauty of the sculptors craft was not in her thoughts today. No, all that concerned her was the daylight dance.' https://t.co/1rN1yi4jAk

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020

'Destined to die, cast out from home and comfort, exiled into the wilds it had never known by an uncaring master who had lost all interest and affection in the loyal creature. It had shown love and been rewarded with scorn and selfishness. The world did not deserve this dog.' https://t.co/nmJ7uLBpyt

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020

'It had not taken long to seek out the graves of the gods, to find where the ancients in their victorious moment of freedom had chained their old masters in the eternal bogs beyond the bay. It was too easy to find one which would offer power for liberation to any fool who asked.' https://t.co/zxjzmBsAsc

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020

'The spine of the world, or so the mountains were named, stretched from the seas in the north to the sands in the south. Few but the savages and the creatures of the snows lived there. The bones of the many who had once called these peaks home rested upon the spine of the world.' https://t.co/TrLS4MrhLq

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 23, 2020

'Beyond the steps, just a few short strides away from the world she had always known, the world that was all too familiar, stood the shattered stones of the door to eternity. Dormant since its destruction in the darkest days of her world, it stood as a promise of another world.' https://t.co/AnXrzGLHwU

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 23, 2020

'There was a point, an advent, beyond which humans went from the worst wasters to the most efficient of lifeforms. It was a step just before catastrophe, a step just beyond the worse of days, when we harnessed energy at the subatomic, at the quantum level and never needed again.' https://t.co/4UluFjTpaS

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 23, 2020

'Life gave the most refreshing wash, the deepest cleansing, of any substance a god could add to the waters. Life was rare, so millions of stars were poured forth and extinguished to supply sufficient substance to the suds, to invigorate the eternal entity for another epoch.' https://t.co/tWXUJU4d3J

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 23, 2020

'In early times, when there were those who still remembered why the tower was built, many looked to the tower up on the mountain for inspiration, for aspiration, and for hope…. https://t.co/emshgd5b0c

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 23, 2020

'They all looked up, toward the horizon, following the movement of the birds above. They all looked, silent, reverent, some saying simple prayers of thanks. Today was a rare day, one of the few days they ever caught sight of the old tower among the ever present clouds…. https://t.co/ymYU2lKBLq

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 20, 2020

'Were you to stumble upon a secret such as this, upon an egg of a long extinct species, upon the potential salvation of an ancient past, would you leave it undisturbed, or would you unleash it upon an unsuspecting world, unsure if it were a blessing or the doom of your own kind?' https://t.co/dIrr3ycDrs

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 20, 2020

'Whenever the world is at rest, when the waters calm and the winds wander away, when the chill of the season renders all creatures silent in the night, that is when the stars of the sky shatter our seclusion and solitude, serving as celestial solace from the abyss of eternity.' https://t.co/QrxgEcl4LB

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 19, 2020

'Oh what fools men must be to venture upon the sea, oh how careless with their precious lives to cast them upon the waters and trust upon the winds to guide them home again! What mad must men be to venture all for intangible dreams of conquest and discovery and lust for lucre.' https://t.co/u8WTSvi2qY

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 19, 2020

'One must take the calm moments between the wars, when the battles are not raging, when one can pause and breathe between crises, to rest and reorient and remember the world is still beautiful, and will be tomorrow. An occasion for reflection can result in a lifetime of wisdom.' https://t.co/fV0NdbqUnG

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 19, 2020

'Was this the semblance to seek? Was this the form that would function for the future? The new life, born of the wails of the restless world, did not know the answer. It only knew this form felt right somehow, and would serve the madness that gave it life and demanded blood.' https://t.co/SVrhGXdODy

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 19, 2020

'There were memories here, not all pleasant, not all meant to remain. There were shadows of the past etched in the stones, carved deep into the cavernous crypt. There were secrets here, sealed away in ash and amber, never meant to be revealed again. This was a grave, after all.' https://t.co/A3jjbWryiL

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 19, 2020

'The lovely lanterns lit her way, the delicate globes of paper and wax, so fragile to the touch, so dim in the daylight. She gave silent thanks to her unknown forerunner who made and placed the lights upon the shores to safely steer any who might also seek the sunset secrets.' https://t.co/vd5n4jpY0z

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 18, 2020

'The annual passage of the shuddering cephalopods was something to see. Tourists flocked to the established trails by the thousands to gasp in awe at the migrating monstrosities. Every so often, one would wander off course, consuming a crowd, but that was the accepted risk.' https://t.co/ilbOlE9hSN

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 18, 2020

'Coffee cat cares not for your concerns, this is the proper place to plop. You've made it warm and welcoming, with a supreme scent to savor, and you wonder why the kitty cat claims your coffee cup for its chair? No, coffee cat is content, which it's sure is what you wanted.' https://t.co/Ab94HIfznS

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 18, 2020

'This world was still waking, still wanting for larger life, yet already mankind walked upon its planes. There were protests when they established the portal, cries that we were stifling life yet to come but those concerns were dismissed. It is easy to ignore future extinctions.' https://t.co/ERhLs7G7oE

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 18, 2020

'The roots grow deep and the limbs stretch high, and ever such was the way of life. The leaves spread wide to catch more light, and starve those that would compete. They drink and breathe all they can, until the air is thin and the soil dry, and ever such was the way of life.' https://t.co/kpgd9HAMbn

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 18, 2020

'Autumn was not the only season to see splendid shades. Sometimes the summer sun can sketch such striking hues as make most men marvel. Towering trees transformed from bland browns to prominent purples and ostentatious oranges as would better befit the setting of the seasons.' https://t.co/U8THDAPpGI

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 17, 2020

'Often we seek great heights to prove something, to ourselves as much as to others. Sometimes we scale mountains simply to conquer one more crest, to prove it can be done. But sometimes, sometimes we walk the wilderness, we seek secluded summits simply to secure solitude.' https://t.co/EymyybbFXr

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 17, 2020

'The sun always rose to meet her, to greet the small sleepy child who would wake before the dawn and walk to the waters edge, lantern in hand, to light the way for the start of the day. The sun always rose when she stood sentinel on the shore so she always woke to raise the sun.' https://t.co/rizusfkXHj

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 17, 2020

'Damsel of the daily dawn, draped in dappled, lovely light. Lift up the languid and the lazy, enliven the enervated, enrich the etiolated that they may strive and succeed. Oh dancer of the daybreak, singer of the springtime seasons, bring forth your blooms and blessings today.' https://t.co/O0BtOUPWtV

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 17, 2020

'In the valley of the river king all would seem aright, in the hall of the river king, he rules with might. In the gorge the river brings, peace reigns supreme, in the depths of the mountain streams, not all is as would seem. For when the snows grow thin, they wash away all sin.' https://t.co/vZdcmgOqMj

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 17, 2020

'Staggering to behold, stupefying to contemplate its construction here amid the mighty mountains, far from any city or civilization, the Hall of the Gods was a beacon for any true traveler. Yet, it had not been built to the gods, but to the memory of science after the Advent.' https://t.co/otB7Vap5BS

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 16, 2020

'Our lives are fraught with perils and challenges on all sides. When we are young, we know not the dangers and only see that which we are not allowed, that which we have not explored, and we want it all now. Those that guide us in this world sometimes protect us from ourselves.' https://t.co/53CDM1hSH0

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 16, 2020

'Local legend spoke of the spine of the sleeping dragon, dozing amid the mists of the mountains. They spoke of of the devastating destruction of ages ago and how they were safe so long as the dragon dreams. Alas, this was no dragon but a violent volcano and it would soon awaken.' https://t.co/1ZNfpdkatf

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 16, 2020

'The achievements of science and engineering lead to longer and more luxurious lives for all. Over time all advances equalize among the multitudes, and the frills of the rich become the standards of the masses. Unfortunately, all too often, so too the wanton waste propagates.' https://t.co/FNWtpILv7e

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 16, 2020

'The world was not simple, nor was it solid. The world was fashioned and forged by the actions of many at the behest of the few. The will of but one could make a difference, but often that change was fragile and fleeting. He wanted real change, he wanted a better world for all.' https://t.co/8WQ4NyMRmv

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 16, 2020

'The world can be so bleak at times, so lacking in options, so devoid of destiny. Often it seems the odds are against us and our very future is uncertain. And it is. It always has been this way, but certainty is not necessary for survival and we can find hope even in desolation.' https://t.co/gqQAoPMS5D

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 13, 2020

'Being a child of destiny is a challenge, from fending off resentful rivals and fabled foes to roving where none but ferocious fiends have tread before, all to fulfill some ancient prophecy that predicted your prodigy so long ago. Sometimes dragons are the least of your worries.' https://t.co/Z86bSBP8b3

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 13, 2020

'Is it a making or an unmaking? Is it the end of the world or the birth of anew? Apocalypses are always appalling to all affixed to the ancient. Change can be catastrophic, but it can also invigorate otherwise stagnant and dying worlds. Just don't get caught in the cataclysm.' https://t.co/nGW1zJuZa2

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 13, 2020

'We would stand in their shadows, aspiring to inspire as even their images in effigy inflame the intellects and actions of so many even millennia after. We measure ourselves against their out-sized influences and wonder if ever we will stand as tall as these heroes of ages ago.' https://t.co/J72akPUo97

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 13, 2020

'What it seeks cannot be found, not in this world or the next, neither in the past nor the future, for what it seeks would be the undoing of all, the unraveling of reality in ways we cannot imagine. It is not of this world and we pray it never finds what it is looking for.' https://t.co/vo6C1H5c1K

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 13, 2020

'It was not a sacred place, just a secret place, where the stone snake slithered when the sun soared overhead and seared every surface. Here, nobody bothered it, here it could rest and recuperate from the struggles only golems knew. Even stones need a soak every so often…' https://t.co/AJ1wVtpS26

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 12, 2020

'Amid murky muddled meditations of infinite introspection and endless irksome irritations, one must remember to relax, to breathe and banish bothersome banalities, to smell the sweet scents of spring and savor serenity wherever we would wander, whenever we can remember to rest.' https://t.co/zkgM5T5qZk

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 11, 2020

'There is a freedom in flight, a solitude of the skies where nothing but the sun and the clouds can climb higher. It was only through tremendous effort and extravagant expense of energy that such a mighty creature could attain the air but it was worth it all to rule the heavens.' https://t.co/FyJvohgeeM

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 11, 2020

'It is ever the great gulfs before us that give us pause, it is ever the daunting deeds we have not yet done that stay our steps and destroy our dreams, the seemingly insurmountable summits and yawning chasms that could still swallow us whole. We forget the wars we already won.' https://t.co/jMGKHFeOWg

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 11, 2020

'It was ever the same. The seekers, the searchers, the silent souls struggling to see something somewhere, anything anywhere other than the outer edges of infinity, bound between past and present, ever evading the edges of eternity in the muddled memory of their lost lives.' https://t.co/Pm1i3uTAtL

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 11, 2020

'Swirling sands, whipping waves, clashing and calamitous clouds portending dark destinies for all lingering life upon this wasting world…. The storm serpent was a cyclical advent, arising every aeon to erase the errors of another age to renew the world in another wave of woe.' https://t.co/t8LMWyyCOG

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 11, 2020

'The sacred spirit tree that grew from the mountain, the world tree with its web of roots that tapped deep rivers and shifted sands many miles away, was worshiped by every people in one way or another. They came to offer prayer and tribute, or they came to weep at its beauty.' https://t.co/Tfmrj7KPFe

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 10, 2020

'We always wondered why they were so scared, why they always fled from sight whenever we glimpsed them scurrying across our paths or between dense clumps of grass. We imagined they were afraid of us though we left them alone. But then, perhaps they were fleeing something else…' https://t.co/UkcUjRuLeK

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 10, 2020

'It was but an unavoidable evolution of a wanton, wasteful world, one more harbinger of the end of everything reckless, everything rash in this world transformed to serve but one species, to serve so few of all who had survived so far, survived until now…. It was inevitable.' https://t.co/0hVc1wXbkK

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 10, 2020

'Oh mighty city in the sun, once home to many now to none, how does the light shimmer from your walls, now does the wind whistle through your halls. Long were your glories, your rule over all, short was your destruction, swift was your fall. Now but a ruin, now but an omen…' https://t.co/legosiS21G

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 10, 2020

'It was a sacred wood for the mages, but not as a source of their powers. There were great magics to be found here, to be certain, but they were not the same mystic forces they wielded. No, these were wild magics, untapped and forbidden from exploration, reserved for nature.' https://t.co/irbUHXZqUq

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 10, 2020

'Untouched, untrammeled, untamed in an age when even the furthest fields and ranges were being claimed and named by the ever enveloping encroachment of mankind. This land was yet free of such settlements, the indomitable domain of some of the other living creatures of the world.' https://t.co/GOsuBTbh3Z

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 9, 2020

'It was a long journey for anyone so old, a route that would challenge even one far younger. And yet he trudged along, alone, unafraid of the dangers. This was a trip he had made many times before, and would again many times again. This pilgrimage was his duty, and his alone.' https://t.co/yCxzpErrGm

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 9, 2020

'The birds knew the way. The birds always knew where to find shelter from the sadistic storm of the sun. His were the first footsteps for unimaginable aeons, echoing along the narrow canyon cliffs, so sharp and steep so as to safeguard the secrets of the past for so long.' https://t.co/60xVB1jzp5

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 9, 2020

'The more you see the more you learn the more you know the more you think the more you dream the more you want the more you seek the more you find the more you see the more you learn the more you know the more you think the more you dream the more you want the more you seek…' https://t.co/HZbGNaku2s

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 9, 2020

'His friends had warned him of the woogie of the woods, had told him lurid tales of terror, teasing him for his fears of shadows and wild creatures. His friends had goaded him, dared him to enter the woods and find the woogie and he had, thinking it was all a lie. It was no lie.' https://t.co/vetwLW7g4r

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 9, 2020

'Old manor house upon the hill, what are the forgotten tales you tell? Who dwelt within your walls, and wandered down your halls? Did they leave or did they perish, now naught but dreams to cherish? Are they ghostly, bound here closely, or did they wander else and yonder?' https://t.co/XxtcN5YcOx

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 6, 2020

'They had torn the world from this spot, deep below the dirt where the grasses grew and the flowers flourished. They had dug down and ripped what they wanted from below, no thought to the health of the heath. They had left long ago, but still the structure stood , as a reminder.' https://t.co/7xvPN1xy0E

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 4, 2020

'It was a place of worship, of pilgrimage, of wonder and of awe. The priests prayed for its destruction while kings sought to secure it as a locus of power and prestige. They called it the Demon Throne, and all thought evil dwelt there. But it was where angels entered our world.' https://t.co/pGtIM69DUA

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 4, 2020

"What is it, daddy?"
"Don't look, child. Come we must go home. We have our catch."
"Is she ok?"
"It is not our business, child. We must not tarry."
"But she looks hurt!"
"There's nothing we can do for her. She is not one of ours. Leave it alone now."
"But, daddy! I want to help!" https://t.co/N4WQL3avhW

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 4, 2020

'They were a friendly sort, always eagerly awaiting any outsider, smiling at every stranger, welcoming any and all to stop by, have a chat, and relax in the heat of the day. They were incredibly sociable, and could not fathom why everyone avoided them, grimacing at their grins.' https://t.co/bkWkvz9J0I

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 4, 2020

'They flew in formation, as they had trained to do for so many years. She directed them through the smoke and the storm as they approached the entrenched enemies ahead. She felt pride at her warriors, these majestic dragons, but feared many would fall before the end of the day.' https://t.co/vJfv7b9scF

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 2, 2020

'It was not fear that drove her into battle with the abominations. She was not protecting her people from a threat out here in the wilds. Nor was it vengeance for some past wrong. No, her fight with the foul fiends was wholly one of disgust that any would desecrate the dead.' https://t.co/UIiE6g17hK

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 2, 2020

'Long ago, with violent tremors that tore rocks asunder, the land itself seized and split one side from the other. Ever since, life had found its way down into the earth, slowly and gradually colonizing what had once been a wound, mending the fracture perpetual renewal.' https://t.co/vkYRFXlFek

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 2, 2020

'Truly a master of wind and wing, a danger in dusk and dark, a terror to all small creatures that scurry or slither, the majestic and mysterious owl still was no stranger to want and worry. Even the hunters that fear no other must work for their meals and secure shelter.' https://t.co/UgQ5WxnSA6

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 2, 2020

'The villagers cautioned outsiders of the fungus. The mushrooms were not toxic, at least no one had died from them, but then no one ever ate them, heeding the centuries of superstition. In truth, they were delicious and nutritious, but none could get past the eerie lights.' https://t.co/b48XFrDFYt

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 2, 2020

"Admit it."
"No."
"I was right, it did rain."
"Alright, it rained."
"I was prepared, you were not."
"Ok, you were. You brought an umbrella."
"… And the rest?"
"Look, I don't care that it's raining, it often rains. And what possible use could the cane be for?"
"You'll see." https://t.co/yNRdZ5iHO1

— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 1, 2020