Twitter Art Micro-Stories: September 8-14, 2020 September 9, 2020 / duncanwilsonauthor / 0 Comments 'The first ten thousand had been the true test of his rise to power, the true trial of strength and discipline. The first ten thousand petty kingdoms to fall to his blade and the furious fire of his steed had been the hardest. The next ten thousand would fall far faster.' https://t.co/9rU5GV9N6g— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 14, 2020 'Three towers, three lords, three laws. For ages the three ruled all, and for aeons all bowed head and bent knee in service to the three. But three is an unnatural number of masters, and the world could not serve such forever. Now, the natural order and freedom were returning…' https://t.co/rYSKlGncli— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 14, 2020 'Peculiar, particular, and altogether puzzling was life out in the outer realms. So strange the sinister shapes that slipped out of the seas and struggled toward civilization. Perhaps, the astrobiologist thought as it blinked both dozens of its eyes, these were the oddest yet.' https://t.co/0SEzRLuprk— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 14, 2020 'None knew her name, none knew her throne, but she was a queen. Her domain was ancient and vast, all that have or ever will live fall at one time or another within her demesne, though they never know when they do. She was the queen of life and love and all joy that can be had.' https://t.co/nFiEJWKCyD— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 14, 2020 'We hide away from the world, withdraw into ourselves, into our minds and hearts, swimming in the sadness springing forth with every new thought, every emotion. We hide away from those that do, or could do us harm. We hide away from the world, within the world, within ourselves.' https://t.co/bDWNcPT36A— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 14, 2020 https://twitter.com/MrDuncanWilson/status/1305242094504742915 'Ever the intrepid adventurer explores the outer reaches of the known, questing for what none other has seen or touched. Always the thrill of the undiscovered, the heady rush of the first footfall in a new land. Yet there are places one should not go, where none are welcome.' https://t.co/SPpxc2bfih— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 13, 2020 'They had done it. Somehow they had melded metal and mind into new life, automated, artificial, autonomic. They had forged freedom to forage and in so doing, fabricated a fearsome foe to natural life, one that needs to feed to breed, and for whom anything else alive is fuel.' https://t.co/PoQcY8dFcu— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 13, 2020 'Something happened here. Something powerful, something awesome, something devastating. Some great and terrible force had struck a mighty blow from the skies, a blow the earth still had yet to heal. He knew not what power had done this, but he would learn and one day wield…" https://t.co/PSiTWF67kT— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 13, 2020 "That is a lovely dress.""Thanks, it serves its purpose.""What purpose is that?""In nature, striking colors serve as warning to the wary and the wise, to proclaim poisons or toxins to those who would touch.""Interesting, and what purpose does it serve you?""Much the same…" https://t.co/HoEgebdNxr— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 13, 2020 'The souls of all living things, once cast adrift, are free to flee this realm for the next, there is naught holding them here but their own want and worries, their curiosity and craving for more of what they left behind. Cats, it seems, rarely leave their old hunting grounds…' https://t.co/k9OlkgEl7X— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 12, 2020 'It was not a creature of the deep, no native of these waters nor any waters known to mortal man. Nothing grew on the colossus, but life teamed about its bones, cautious and curious. Beast, both dumb and clever, wondered what it was, and what it would be when the light grew.' https://t.co/x8mR651F0v— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 12, 2020 'The fields knew her, the hills knew her, the birds and the beasts were her fellows and never fled. She was the one with the flowers in her hair, flowers that would sprout and bloom each season as she danced in the wilds. She was a child of the sun, and the world was hers.' https://t.co/NBvtYhdna5— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 12, 2020 "Can I go with you this time? I want to go!""I know, and no, you cannot go. Perhaps another time."""It's not fair, you always leave me behind! I'm ready for the world, I can take care of myself!""I know you are, I know you are ready, dear, but the world is not ready for you." https://t.co/e4BOPEEd9A— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 12, 2020 'The mimic could not understand why it did not look right, why the form felt off in the mirror. The words were clear, the bards went on and on about flowery lips and rose petal eyes, but the image seemed unsettling. Perhaps it was the eyes? They had two, according to the books.' https://t.co/N6Np0A7dse— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 12, 2020 'They thought it a portent of power and prosperity, that the fields would flourish and the storms would subside. They called it a celestial sign and prayed for the peace they knew their knew princess would bring. But the flower that formed was a warning, an omen of apocalypse.' https://t.co/y2IWDAZemn— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 11, 2020 'None knew the reason. None knew why this time of year, this cove, this cascade of water to wash her hands. Everything about her was an enigma, even among titans. The other giants attack or destroy but not her. Whole faiths arose around her mystery, the year was measured by her.' https://t.co/TDa0tYwqJ2— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 11, 2020 'Every season has a reason. With the sun comes heat and life, growth and strength. With the waning comes the harvest, when all that was sown is secured against the snows. The cold brings solitude and silence. But this was the awakening, the time for life to be born once again.' https://t.co/cpQ5sWyTtB— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 11, 2020 'Most minds are made of malady, of mystery, of myriad memories and moments many would rather they'd missed. What we were is what we are and what we will be. Unless… Unless we search our souls and seek for solace, unless we sift and sort and save the stories that strengthen us.' https://t.co/e1eLIsVWFO— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 11, 2020 'The snows would hide them, the snows would hide all of their kind, from foe and friend, from those that hunted them, that hunted all who walked the earth. There were so few left now the hunters had not found. It was time for the old magic, it was time for snow, and for hiding.' https://t.co/WqcQ6NVVG4— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 11, 2020 'In the gloom, in the shadows, in the windless world without light but for the hint of moon through creeping clouds, in the night the hunter watches, waiting for the merest motion, the minutest of movements of its quarry in the forest below. Then in a flash, it will take flight!' https://t.co/bZY6vSaDCq— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 10, 2020 "We should never have given it form, we should never have lent it life, we should never have sought its power and brought it forth for our own gain. Now it haunts us, hunts us, seeking what will make it whole. When it feeds, it then leaves. But do not feed it, it will come back." https://t.co/xeX7E5Dgjw— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 10, 2020 'The world of today, and what we build for tomorrow, oft throws shadows upon the souls of the past, letting languish what once were the pillars of our prosperity, the souls of our society. What once was a wonder can wane and waste away, forgotten, fading forever into fable.' https://t.co/A0XPRhccw8— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 10, 2020 'What is the worth of a single stone? What is the worth of a rough rock, reduced with care, carved and crafted into a gleaming green gem that catches every envious eye? For some, no amount of money is enough, for others, no amount of blood. For one, such a stone is worth an eye.' https://t.co/JuDXMOCrk7— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 10, 2020 'Winters wax and winters wane, every year, again and again, but every fresh frost and freeze, ever sooner did winter seize, ice and snow assailing fields, every year grew smaller yields. Someday soon, this land will wither, and winter will come and stay forever.' https://t.co/x9T4I7EJPE— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 10, 2020 'They could play for ages among the dilapidated structures, abandoned long before their days. They could, but had been warned against the dangers. So they played in their minds, spinning tales of what treasures they would find if ever they explored the ruins before them.' https://t.co/j4FlHVTH7u— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 9, 2020 '"None dare challenge my might!" The words echoed through the lonesome cedars, the burnt out embers that once had grown over the graves of the common people dead long ago. Another spell, another curse, another blight. None dare challenge the lich, for there were none left alive.' https://t.co/TBGyMjoh69— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 9, 2020 'How bucolic was the breeze that wafts through the trees. How busy were the bees that flit and float on the breeze with ease. How languid and lovely were the lands, the furrowed fields lined with copse and stands. Life here was as still and serene as any life had ever been.' https://t.co/K8Z7geyYtZ— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 9, 2020 'Theirs was a world of great heights, of cliffs and falls and clamorous climbs to seek shelter or succor. Theirs was a world of rock and river, of hoof and wing and tooth and claw, of hunt and flee, of life today and no sign of tomorrow. Theirs was the wild, and it was savage.' https://t.co/ZUK7nbIjwr— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 9, 2020 'The chill of the coming darkness, a brisk blast from beyond the breakers, serenading the setting of the sun in a waning whisper of a wind, gave warning to all that scuttled and crept upon the sand. They would have to seek shelter for the night, against the cold and high tide.' https://t.co/K5um4irEmZ— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 9, 2020 'Her heart was sacred. It had borne her through her life without err, it had sustained her through love and loss and love again, it had supported her through hardship and joy, and now, now that it was no longer a part of her, it faithfully bore the last blooming of her soul.' https://t.co/882rAMrHvm— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 8, 2020 'He wished he were deaf. The tormented screams, the wailing and retching of the spirits as they were torn from their afterlife tore through the chamber from the tear between worlds. Yet, he could ignore the sound but for her. He wished he were deaf to the screams of his love…' https://t.co/QMpkzVtoMf— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 8, 2020 'They had sought life everlasting, and had sacrificed kingdoms and armies, families and fortunes for their prize. All was forfeit to the continuation of their existence, all else was the price for infinity. But now, in their gilded forever, all they have is endless days alive…" https://t.co/Tin9nWcGJe— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 8, 2020 'Picturesque, pastoral, peaceful… The land of the three had known little but prosperity these past centuries, an abundance of art and an acculturation of all who called these lands home. There was a price for this peace, oh yes, but it was paid far away in other lands…' https://t.co/UUbZ3mKSK7— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 8, 2020 'His joints were brittle but not from age. No, he knew no age, he knew no time but eternity. No, his joints were brittle for all that he had seen. From a time there were only trees, he had watched life unfold. Myriad species had come and gone, and each death made his bones ache.' https://t.co/2437IAUnKe— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) September 8, 2020 Share with: Short Stories Art Micro Storiesmicrofictionshort story Previous post The God Of The Gaps – New Patreon exclusive short story Next post The Soma Posts 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.