Twitter Art Micro-Stories: August 1-7, 2020 August 1, 2020 / duncanwilsonauthor / 0 Comments 'Harold was a good creature. Harold was friendly, approachable, kind-hearted to all the other creatures in the world, even those that screamed in terror and ran away. Harold was just nice like that. So he grinned his toothy grin and looked with its terrifying eyes for a friend.' https://t.co/HUBXg8N5wf— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 7, 2020 'There was a window in the canopy. It was not much, but it was large enough to let the light in. The surrounding trees were too distant to spread into the gap and the ground below would not bear any more than grasses and brush. In this gap the small bushes grew their flowers.' https://t.co/p54UaYuDuj— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 7, 2020 'It was a weed to most, pretty but poisonous both to the creeping creatures and the other flowers and grasses that grew alongside. No beast could eat it, no bug could safely tread upon it. No bug, that is, but the butterfly that bore the same colors. To it, the flower was home.' https://t.co/9X7NSf6xOq— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 7, 2020 'Scourge of the borderlands, death of travelers, murder angel and monarch of misery. It was known by many names, none good. None but fools approached the otherworldly figure that walked the deserts, denuding the sands of any life rash enough to try to grow. A deity of death.' https://t.co/y57RPZzsx8— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 7, 2020 'They had traveled far and endured many hardships, but this was their land now. It wasn't much, but it was theirs. Their cattle were thriving, their families were growing. They could only hope that if they had been followed, that the dragons would not be able to see their homes.' https://t.co/5gjcsDQfw4— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 7, 2020 'The roads were woven through the jungle, with tender care for each bent limb, for each twisted vine, for every root shifted, supported, replanted in just the right place to allow for the paths continuing unobstructed. These were living roads and they would outlive their makers.' https://t.co/kxXajawJnz— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 6, 2020 'He was the ideal man. Strong, tall, solid, dependable… He had been less than ideal once long ago, before he wandered too far into the forest, before he stumbled upon the daphnaie and meliae dancing to the morn dewdrops of the dell. Now he was the ideal man, forever amid them.' https://t.co/H89mTy5TSv— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 6, 2020 'Upon the edge of eternity, when the moon blesses the sky and stars shine amid the clouds the lonely little tree reaches for eternity. The last of its kind, sacred to the birds and bugs of the sky, the pink leafed tree serenades the night with its silence, shedding tears of joy.' https://t.co/Gm5sZNQ4YZ— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 6, 2020 "There are no deer in these woods. Not for many generations now.""But, I swear I saw one!""… A stag?""Yes! Dark as night!""That is no deer. That is the spirit of all the deer that once were and are no more. It haunts this forest. It is not a friendly spirit. We should go." https://t.co/AIMzVV1iMu— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 6, 2020 'The mighty wyrm of the depths bellowed in the empty air. It had emerged after centuries in solitude, no longer satisfied with what it could find in the darkness below. The earth trembled beneath its weight, the air shook from its roar. This fresh new world was the dragon's now.' https://t.co/YcaxhGs9Ow— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 6, 2020 'The storm was gathering. Everyone could see it, everyone could smell it, everyone could feel the changing of the wind and the growing chill of the tempest soon to erupt upon their land. Some prayed, some fled, some hid as best they could. There was no escaping what was to come.' https://t.co/ejFnBHD8RT— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 6, 2020 'In the darkness of the wood hide all the creatures who must flee from frequent foes. In the deep dense undergrowth, do prey pray to their primitive spirit patrons, seeking security, seeking sanctuary. Still hunger drives them out into the light, to seek sustenance in the glade.' https://t.co/6qcZx5mKZe— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 6, 2020 'At last, he had found it, the source of all the chaos, of all the destruction across the lands, of all the uncertainty and upheaval that had cast most of mankind into turmoil and brought low so many ancient empires and institutions. It did not seem like much up close.' https://t.co/SVy9NkFR30— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 6, 2020 'He was not sure it was a monster. Surely, it ate many humans, but only those that came to slay it. The creature had not attacked him, and he had studied it for weeks now. Of course, it was blind, and perhaps it had yet to notice him. But still, he was not sure it was a monster.' https://t.co/wvjnlVy8Yq— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 5, 2020 'There was only the one prisoner high atop the peak of the world. Those that guarded the way and the edifice carved out of the living rock spoke little but to each other, and never with their captive. Few came to visit, fewer every year. 'Twas the only fitting way to cage a god.' https://t.co/T35wam0Hzv— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 5, 2020 'The dominions of man are vast and magnificent, at least to the minds of men. But the beasts of the field and air care little for the mighty walls of the cities nor the spires reaching for the sky. Let man have his kingdoms, the wilds will always belong to untamed creatures.' https://t.co/kzUwHPIbAL— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 4, 2020 'The chill of the winter was wearying, and was yet to wane, but still the red-breasted robin knew no worry, no want. While others fled or hid, the robin still knew where to find food, even in the worst of snows. In the stillness of the snows, the little bird was at home.' https://t.co/F8lFeiVgJt— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 4, 2020 'It is not always what we see in the mirror that matters. It is not the sadness that seems to pervade our features after so many years in the struggle of life. Often, what we see is not what matters, but the strength and warmth within that keep us looking for more in the mirror.' https://t.co/BCkmws1w1D— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 4, 2020 'The behemoth was walking slowly now, its steps sluggish, its mind seeking naught but sleep. It was almost there now, it was almost done treading the tundra. It only had a few steps farther to lie down with the bones of its father and its father's father, and then it could rest.' https://t.co/07tavSmFit— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 4, 2020 'Danger in the depths deigns no disguise. No need of nicety nor mesmerizing a mate with a magnificent mask. No, the powerful predator of the abominable abyss had no illusions of intent, other than the lighted lure it carried for the unwary and the unwitting. Dazzling and deadly.' https://t.co/G3b9Z3S95n— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 4, 2020 'The white tree buds but once a decade, standing bare in the interim. None alive know why the tree can live so deep underground, or why leaves grow red. The tree, and the chamber it calls home are ancient, older than the city above. None know the last king nourishes the roots.' https://t.co/mYOX3m4Kwm— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 4, 2020 'The hulks had been there forever, longer than his species, longer than any life on his world. Some had feared the relics of another world, some had worshiped them. He was here to strip pieces away, to demolish the past to build the future. They would not be there forever.' https://t.co/kqPaQn4bdg— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) August 2, 2020 Share with: Short Stories Art Micro Storiesmicrofictionshort story Previous post Twitter Art Micro-Stories: July 2020 Next post The Old Grove – New Patreon exclusive short story Leave a Reply Cancel replyYour email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *Comment Name * Email * Website Save my name, email, and website in this browser for the next time I comment. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.