what might be the birth and death of a goddess_Dear Tobias,_Into the Woods_Fantasy Forest
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what might be the birth and death of www.onedoor.cca goddess
All She could feel was salt, a sickening and bold smell remained on her skin, as new as the rough grit of the sand. The air was as she had never known before, as the salt and sea foam she originated from dried on nearly human skin. She was nowhere near one with it anymore, centuries passing without her acolytes to sing her praises. But who could ever know what she wasn’t anymore? As she lay sickening on the coast of her birth. It was a blight on whatever she had that approximated eternity. But she could survive it if she also forgot what she was. Like her followers saw fit to forget. What asp...
Dear Tobias,
CONTENT WARNING: VIOLENCEIt wasn't the bullets that hurt me, Tobias.It wasn't the violent words you spewed at me or even your blows that battered me, you've always had a flair for dramatics.No, what caused me to ache was the expression on your face after you pulled the trigger. Bloody remorse. I’ve never seen this look on you so pronounced before, you never did fancy hesitation. Even then you never ceased to surprise me, remorse was my thing! Besides, it looked quite ridiculous on you, if I wasn't so attune to your mannerisms I'd have thought you caught wind of a foul stench, or was curbing t...
Into the Woods
Tapping at a window and voices, an animal scurrying and then a wall. A single chime of the town bell. A door opening. A song of the Whzgoinon. The steady sways of the breeze. She heard a flock fly above and the rain spraying from the sky and the knock on the door. She was riding a horse. She felt someone pull her backward. The horse a room. Someone familiar spoke to her and she said, no, it can't be. She drew her bow and lifted the tip of the arrow. A group of knights whistled and clapped before rushing into battle. And then she was running, she saw her sister and they moved through a corridor...
Fantasy Forest
Ninety minutes west of home and it’s a different world. Suburbia becomes Happy Valley, where cows proudly outnumber people and traffic lights only exist “in town.” Roads meander along the paths of streams with names like “Honey Creek” and “Spruce Run,” a fair number of which have their source on “Jack’s Mountain.” The air is clear in the country. Each night the sky reminds you that the stars have not forgotten our little Earth. Each day whispers that the past is not so far away as it seemed before sunrise.I wasn’t even out of the car before it hit me. The door opened, and country air rushed in...