Twitter Art Micro-Stories: October 1-7, 2020 October 8, 2020 / duncanwilsonauthor / 0 Comments 'Some would say it was a waste to repair these older models, these units so out of date they could barely cope with the world as it had become. Many considered it pointless to restore the broken to life so long after their usefulness. But she still saw something special in them.' https://t.co/DzQ6Z4p2Ik— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 7, 2020 "Raise your glasses in honor of the newly fallen! Another has passed from this world into the inexplicably eternal dying of the all consuming entity at the heart of our galaxy, one of the great and fearsome foes of all of life and reality! Salute the fallen, may we avenge them!" https://t.co/8333hgcCxf— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 7, 2020 'The hala would never win, they all knew. Never had it swallowed the sun or moon without spitting it forth soon after, unable to stomach the light. No, it could never win, it never had. They all laughed at the notion, but with a worried smile and a nervous eye upon the sky.' https://t.co/vS9KSZgZUQ— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 7, 2020 "Time machine? Hell no. Time is immutable. Even if it wasn't, do you have any idea how much energy would be needed to mess with time? The inertia of movement in the fourth dimension toward the future is immense! Insurmountable! No, this just spawns alternate realities." https://t.co/Om5K7qKqXr— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 7, 2020 'The minds of men are wavering and weak, spying dark dangers where none await, conjuring creatures none could conquer from mist and madness. Yes, the timid tremble before false foes, but when true terrors tower above, they freeze in fear, failing to flee, falling to fright.' https://t.co/6U6JcrVmYh— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 7, 2020 'All things pass, and even their traces fade, as if they never were. Yet, the time for mourning is not yet nigh. That long silent drift into the void is not yet upon us nor is it near. Bury not the living before their time. As long as they are within reach they are not yet lost.' https://t.co/qCz0VqH73g— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 6, 2020 'Whispered winds and misty mornings, cascading clouds caressing each crag and crevasse as they swim serenely through the summer skies, awash in colors come to light as the rising sun restores our sight. Every morning magic, every dawning day a delight, an exultation and elation.' https://t.co/TYa5EATBNc— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 6, 2020 "In some ways, being a witch had never been easier. In older times, such a supply would have been impossible, or quite expensive. Now, all she had to do was go to the right markets in town. Oh sure, she had to hide when her predecessors held power, but still, it was easier now. https://t.co/0J9FRCZWf9— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 6, 2020 'He had not slept all night, dreaming of what he would say to his love. Imagining every possible response, weeping for all the forseen times his love spurned him, treasuring the few he was accepted. He had not slept at all last night, or any night at all since he had died.' https://t.co/ok2a28uKY5— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 6, 2020 'The little creature commanded respect far exceeding its stature. No one realized they were giving the diminutive watcher any regard at all, but all kept their distance, knowing better than to tread too close to its domain. It was a vigilant guardian, and kept a wary eye on all.' https://t.co/lsTMie6MOT— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 6, 2020 'No scientist believed it was real as none of them had seen it, and no photo existed. It was only spotted a few times a year and only when the leaves began to all. Sometimes called a Leafer by locals, it was a mystery of the forest. It just seemed to silly a creature to be real.' https://t.co/4ZVyNazew0— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 5, 2020 'This rig had seen him through the apocalypse, with access to all the information he needed, within his armored bunker, a vast array of weapons at his fingertips. He had sweated through the worst of the chaos, safe and alone. Now, he could see no movement outside. Was it safe?' https://t.co/cnRnTiGyu7— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 5, 2020 'Few knew of the cave at the end of the valley. Few lived near enough to know. By day, anyone could come even to the mouth of the cave without fear, but none did, too terrified of what dwelt within. For, by cover of night the howling and wailing beast within flew forth to feast.' https://t.co/uNpFyd1xsL— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 5, 2020 'It had spent countless centuries seeking, searching, collecting its prized possessions, gathering them together in one place to guard over and treasure forever. Yes, it had a hoard, just like any other dragon, but it did not mind lending them to like-minded treasure hunters.' https://t.co/uAsq26tYYq— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 5, 2020 'The cowboy did not know what to make of what he was seeing. The ground throbbed and the clouds cracked with fire and madness as the once buried apparatus arose from its ancient tomb to toil at an unknown task. Scratching his head, the cowboy wondered why it kept eating cattle.' https://t.co/7bPITxGfwS— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 5, 2020 'It had once been a clockwork kingdom, this land of broken rock and shattered rubble. Once a thriving culture of artifice and craft, this hulk, one of the many decaying clockwork demons, was testament to the envy and rivalry that had brought ruin to them all at their zenith.' https://t.co/Rm7kpXzRgr— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 5, 2020 'No one minded the tiny spirits, they were but a natural part of the wilds, like bugs or pollen only less irksome. Every living thing, from the largest tree to the smallest blade of grass had a spirit, each just the right size. Few gave them notice but the spirits were watching.' https://t.co/0TMXzkxMZ8— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 1, 2020 'They knew no fear of man nor beast, even when that fear would be wise. The Glowing Angels were curious by nature, almost affectionate to any they came across in the depths, lighting up when gently embraced to show their fondness for other life. Gentle giants and friends to all.' https://t.co/5cJoRmwbl5— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 1, 2020 'It always falls to the old to maintain the old traditions and the ancient knowledge. The young doubt the deeds and dangers of their elders, discounting terrors as tall tales. So when the old creatures creep forth to hunt once more, it is the old who must be on guard for all.' https://t.co/t01eINthPV— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 1, 2020 'For ages they thought the ancients had built this monument to their gods, to memorialize their perfect protectors calling forth the sun every day. But they were mistaken. This was built not by man, but by their gods, in offering to the sun itself whom they worshiped in turn.' https://t.co/QN2ffT7hQs— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 1, 2020 Share with: Short Stories Art Micro Storiesmicrofictionshort story Previous post Twitter Art Micro-Stories: September 22-30, 2020 Next post Twitter Art Micro-Stories: October 8-14, 2020 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.