One Page Stories

Who caters for the solace of a reef wreck? Is it something or someone? Someone with their past unresolved, in ruins, far away from the fair judgment? Something reduced to no power for existence nor a desire? And what is there to cater for? The waves and the needs, the

Bringing you the experience of flirting. She shed the smile ready for someone else. Too late. He came over. The wrong he, that is. Distressed she rekindled the smile. He returned the fake spark with his yellowed whites. Definitely the wrong he. He didn't speak. She waited. He

With the tidings of perusal, I clamor to the seeping waves. Wage the tremors towards a wall change as the water grows tall. Blinded underneath the rise by what to expect-clearly. A complete and utter demise. Flooded. Over-flooder if that's a thing. I flail my limbs for a

Sometimes the best way forward is a straight ahead. No twists and turns, no left or rights, no backs and forths, no ups and downs. With a journey so so simple no mistakes can be made. With each step taken off that way, the empyrean end gets closer. In the

Split at a standstill where the way forward is forked in an infinite. Once more to run up the hill crawl below as a coward or exceed my limit? I put the fear on mute plans for the future stashed the remembrance forgotten. Wet sweat swallows the long back of

AD20 has been running-escaping, dashing left to right, small sidesteps. Exactly 84.3m behind him was The Nightmare. AD20 initiated a Quick Scan knowing it will increase his chances of escape by 5.81%. That number currently sat at 32.23%. "Not bad," he accessed in his newly

The first time the young boy came to the master, he was asked what does he want. "Dance", the young boy replied without much thought. The master replied to the boy "dance then" and shared no further guidance. The second time the young boy asked the

The clean table welcomed her, as she waited to be served. Everything always came to her, yet now no one and nothing arrived. Yet still, she waited. Unbothered.

The gray in the midst of the longwinded way shows no path forward but invites me to lose my assumed control. Short on breath, I go on without the touch of my own. There is no right side to see, there is no right side to take. All covered in

Every day there's the thought, the seed of questioning the importance of existence. Inching in without a warning you suddenly see yourself playing out a scene: sitting in an armchair, writing out the words before the act, the hurt and feelings outpoured, on a thin piece of paper;