Twitter Art Micro-Stories: October 8-14, 2020 October 15, 2020 / duncanwilsonauthor / 0 Comments 'He had been summoned to secure the city against a creature. He had been promised a handsome reward for his efforts and been assured it was a threat he could handle. After all, he was known far and wide for his prowess against monsters. But seriously, this was beyond ridiculous.' https://t.co/USvfOZDsW5— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 14, 2020 'The temples of the gods of order sprung up in some strange spots. Far from cities and other settlements, they appeared almost as if by magic, in inaccessible wilds still the domain of nature, as if portents of pilgrims to come, premonitions of potential progress yet to come.' https://t.co/S4chDpIqZz— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 14, 2020 'Idle wonder, but no real need, drove his commands to the creatures. Each a lesser version of itself, made manifest from the eldritch aethers all its own, but somehow drawn to him, their apparent lord and master. He had no plans for the petty sprites, but still they served him.' https://t.co/HZlZrZtYVA— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 14, 2020 'How many had died to fill the cauldron was not known for the rites had started long ago. Those that finished the incantations had never known their predecessors, being called to their unholy duties by the cauldron itself, seeking to fulfill its foul task. And now hell opened…' https://t.co/THVMW1GpQT— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 14, 2020 'It was not about mastery, had never been about becoming a champion. His had always been a struggle of survival, of independence in a world unfit for him or any who were not the norm. Still his training and his diligence to be competent had achieved an excellence unknown to any.' https://t.co/1dMxUGe2qy— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 14, 2020 'She had no need of her trade, or any trade at all. There was no secret she could not seek, no goal she could not gain. Still, she strove for celebrity in such a scholarship as few found fit, no matter the caste she came from. Such was her struggle, such her success the sweeter.' https://t.co/ky5vxfxAyS— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 13, 2020 'Upon prosperous plains, the productive plow and plant, planning and preparing for potential pitfalls, setting aside stores against storm and starvation yet unseen, yet unrealized. For foresight favors the fervent farmer who fears fallow futures and produces provisions.' https://t.co/NYZkX5PZlR— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 13, 2020 'From ancient leys or end of days, there are things that stalk the shadows. Older god or newfound fiend, beware what blights the barrows, be you fearless or be you craven, their notice brings but sorrows. Flee fast if found by forest fiend, if at all you seek tomorrows.' https://t.co/L97iRFJilq— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 13, 2020 'Beware the bear, bane of both bowman and beast, forest fiend, feared on field and farm, marsh monster, marauder of the mountains, whose name is never called but as a curse upon the corrupt. Fear the frightening foe of all who find their fair favor fleeting before its fury.' https://t.co/zK8CU2M0X8— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 13, 2020 'If not for their unnatural angle, all would assume they were the remnants of mountains, fashioned by flood and fierce storms of old. Some still thought such, or that the gods carved them to fit their whim. But they were built by man long ago, by means lost to time and war.' https://t.co/gVElE4uT9i— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 13, 2020 'The benefits of being a witch were seemingly boundless. Sure, there were some drawbacks, such as the scared stares of strangers. Yet, even this annoyance was occasionally of use, such as when she wanted to be left alone, unbothered while she relaxed and enjoyed a good book.' https://t.co/REUgcNHPNj— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 12, 2020 'The heartmother was an ancient god of the ancient folk, the same folk still found in the forests and the swamps upon occasion, hiding from the foreigners that had come to dominate their homelands. She offered no protection for the folk, but guarded their souls in the hereafter.' https://t.co/S0f449mFbY— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 12, 2020 'Any ship in good repair and full trim, had no real trouble outpacing an enraged elder god, though most experienced explorers knew which regions to avoid and could spot the signs of an errant elder on the prowl. Some pirates sheltered in their waters, though, to their own peril.' https://t.co/RykQl3QzjU— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 12, 2020 'Migratory, solitary, contemporary, the modern crab tends towards only the most fashionable of forsaken frameworks. Sleek, if not slender, such structures make ideal domestic dwellings for any ambitious arthropod. For those on the climb with the times, it's free real estate.' https://t.co/hLTksFhCvF— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 12, 2020 'The world-bore had first been seen by ancient astrologers searching the stars for some sign of celestial council. They witnessed a distant world cored and broken by the blinding beam from beyond. Since, several other worlds had borne the bore and died. Now, the bore was here…' https://t.co/6C9yeQMrZR— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 12, 2020 'Waking when all are asleep, catching sight of passing dreams with wide eyes and infinite curiosity, the world can hold such potential, such promise. When we dream beyond our sanctuaries and sound sleeps, when we look to the stars and see a celestial sea, then we are truly free.' https://t.co/gUdtdEKeqU— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 11, 2020 "Every time I write about life and death, I have to stop on a shuddered breath, as I try to choke back a cry and I realize I too will die.My pen wants to discuss the somber tones of life's final throes, while my mind would prefer that such things never were, and never will be." https://t.co/mE35Hs6C4v— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 11, 2020 'She could not believe it. She had just stumbled upon it, never even dreaming of searching for, much less finding one. They were so rare, the most elusive of plants, of all living things and worth more than all the rest combined. And it was right there in her hands, a hopeseed.' https://t.co/fi9u3GlQBI— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 11, 2020 'Lightning in a bottle was easy, as any apprentice witch would tell you. You don't even have to leave the ground to tempt the scorching bolts into your awaiting vials. No, what was a real challenge was catching a shooting star before it fell to earth and became just a stone.' https://t.co/P0j7A76i5y— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 11, 2020 'It seemed so desolate, such a gloomy locale to want to live. Few thought of the place with any but disdain, and those few were indifferent at best. Of course such a reputation made the misty and marshy moor the ideal sanctuary of any who shared a similar notoriety in society…' https://t.co/unpdQkKs4B— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 11, 2020 'The seal was complete at last. He was the last of the order alive, the only guardian to survive the binding, to save the world from the danger within. Now, the warning was inscribed in the common tongue and he prayed the far future would never forget the meaning of the symbols.' https://t.co/60lQ0aPsoL— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 10, 2020 'Life is complex, and we spend so many waking hours learning the proper patterns and required rituals to navigate the near future. So much of our time is simply studying to survive. But every so often, we are allowed a few moments of rest and relaxation in which to read.' https://t.co/174nDNpX34— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 10, 2020 'It was not the smartest member of the pack, quite possibly the dumbest. The others had avoided the waters, wary of their golden glow, but it had lapped up the liquid with little caution. It had not been a smart creature but now it could see new colors and sense eternity itself.' https://t.co/GwOnuk50iw— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 10, 2020 'Eerie in the evening, nightmarish at night, the small farmhouse was seldom seen but often discussed. Was it cursed, as they all feared, haunted by the last family to till its fields? Or was it but a sign of the times, another failed and forlorn farm abandoned in the depression?' https://t.co/DmQW6kfH9c— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 10, 2020 'Every wave is a moment in motion, every second of the sun's setting is another gone forever. So many seconds in every minute, every day, every year of our life, they cascade upon us then wash away before we know them. Some get lost in the surf, some help others learn to swim.' https://t.co/0W01RncOqB— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 10, 2020 'He had fought with courage and great fervor for the old ways and the old gods, he had fallen on the field of battle as they demanded. Now, as he stood before the gates to his eternal reward, he gripped his ax tightly. He would have a reckoning with those who demanded his wrath.' https://t.co/25YNqNImSp— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 9, 2020 'Surely there must be a wider world out there among the flitting stars, dancing overhead, blinking in and out of existence throughout the night. They stars must come from somewhere, must have some place to rest their wings when the sun arose. Perhaps there was more to the world.' https://t.co/ImthI3WH40— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 9, 2020 'The rains they come, the rains they dance. Few have prepared for such temperamental torrents, fewer still have any alternative than to await until it abates. And so they wait, and wonder, and worry. The winds will wain, the waters will wander. But not now. Now they must abide.' https://t.co/boLMEJHhlZ— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 9, 2020 'The high passage was the only safe path between two worlds. At first there was great traffic across the sky bridge, as throngs of merchants, refugees, and the curious crowded along the passage from both sides. There is far less now they know the two worlds are equally broken.' https://t.co/Pbec8pMoGq— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 9, 2020 'There was a subtlety to the sadness, a melody to the melancholy, a dance to the despair and depression, she was sure of it, she knew it deep in her core. She had to believe there was some design to her despondency that she could seize and subdue, but she had not found it yet.' https://t.co/FuZq3XQYWQ— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 9, 2020 'All things considered, our needs are simple. What we want, what we will move heaven and earth for is, in the end, a place to call our own, a sanctuary against instability, a home away from change and the uncertainty that dog our lives from day to day. All we want is serenity.' https://t.co/uchXWE17Xn— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 8, 2020 'It all seemed so effortless, so simple to subdue what held so many others at bay. The many monsters others balked at and fled from had all fallen to her in such short order that it seemed silly none had succeeded before her. After all, her great triumph was just to try.' https://t.co/1u6QzEvZ5n— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 8, 2020 'What the winds worry at, what the waters wash away day by day, over endless aeons, reveals the strong stone beneath, carrying off all that cannot resist, leaving only the stubborn bones of the world behind as testament to what once had stood against the gradual grind of time.' https://t.co/wduSbku2im— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 8, 2020 'The field where the fiery sword fell from the fallen god's fist was sacred and hallowed. None lived upon the plain, none sowed crop nor tended flock there, none even approached the titanic and terrifying relic, for nothing could live upon the blight that seeped forth.' https://t.co/gTYYyMxfhW— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 8, 2020 'Far and wide was the word of their wonders spread by wanderers and warriors alike. From sand and rock they had forged their kingdom, where none other would dream of dwelling. Surely their people would rule forever, such was their greatness, such was the majesty of their gods.' https://t.co/HLfn4fxMt7— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) October 8, 2020 Share with: Short Stories Art Micro Storiesmicrofictionshort story Previous post Twitter Art Micro-Stories: October 1-7, 2020 Next post Twitter Art Micro-Stories: October 15-21, 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.