These are general stories, basically. Various genres, various sizes. From age regression to death and more. This is my secondary work when the Beaumont series is being worked on.
Sub-Galleries 1
Literature
Street
When were they ever going to fix those street lights? The Council said that they were fixed but the street was always so dark and no amount of repair requests ever made any difference.
Complaints didn't work either and people fairly liked to complain, national pastime it seems.
So as usual the street was dark and the lights refused to come on, it made the street a tad unsettling to say the least since you could see light from outside of the street but here it was like the light was being held at bay.
Which was frankly weird if that was the case.
Also there was another addition to the strangeness – He was the only male in the entire s
The first word to mind Fits this time of year very well It is blunt and harsh Another Christmas has come around with the looping songs, the onslaught of adverts, the food, the lack of heat. So many who have the festive spirit declaring it loud and proud while others try to just get through each day facing what they know waits for them at the end of it, what always waits for them. Society is one that pushes false toxic positivity far too often while ignoring the reality that there are those who can't feel it nor force themselves to no matter how hard they try as the weight of what they are dealing with is always heavy. Slap on a happy face, slap on the fake smile, pretend and lie to make others feel good because lying is good currency in a society scared of the truth. Watching from a cosy table in a nice enough cafe she thinks about the usual things that weigh on her heart, her thoughts barely having any bearing to the festive décor placed around nor to the less than festive
How many times around? With the only change being yourself? Eyes open to familiar sights once again, the ceiling as unchanged as ever with the same light and paint scheme. Unchanged and familiar as always as I have come to expect after so many days, years? Hard to say now as it's all become a blur of waking up to the exact same day over and over again with the only difference always being myself and other subtle changes connected to what's happening to me. The same day in an endless loop where the changes started off minor before becoming more noticeable while my body, oh how that's changed. I can recall starting this loop on the day I died when I must have been a good, oh, 112 years old. I had and have lived a long time so when my time to finally face the end came I was happy to face it, I had lived a pretty good life after all despite the heartbreaks, pains and more that many face. But I didn't die that day, I did die but I didn't. I remember feeling my body shut down as I
Little Tales: Don't Stay Up by ReinaHW, literature
Literature
Little Tales: Don't Stay Up
Better watch out Better not cry Don't be up at the same he arrives Humans have some interesting traditions, don't you think? Take this Christmas thing for example, there are a few celebrations happening at the same time yet it's Christmas that gets the most attention due to how profitable it is. Hanukkah and Yule, Yule being the original Pagan celebration, being pushed to the side for profits in a heavily capitalist society. But that's not what this is about, this is about why you're usually told to try and not be awake when the jolly person in red arrives. Why should you be in bed at the time though? Well there's a reason for that. ~~ So many houses to choose from, so many places to rob and so few of them had any security cameras and alarms. An all you can rob buffet. Ho ho ho, merry thievemas. Being sure to not look suspicious they eye up the properties while making it look like they're a normal cis gender heterosexual normative couple out for a romantic walk in the snow
Come one Come all To the festival Distraction beginning right about now, that should keep the festival owners busy while the plan went ahead. Another year with another festival in this charming little town, a festival to commemorate the founding of the town two hundred years ago by a group of travellers looking for a place that wasn't connected to religion nor politics, just a place for people who sought peace to call home and always be free to return to when they've seen what they wish to see of the world. Not that these two schemers live in this town, they've been here plenty of times and to several festivals over the years but they have no interest in settling down in the town. They're here for another purpose. “I don't see anyone, I think we're in the clear” Last check before making their way as quickly as possible while keeping to the shadows, halting briefly to be sure they haven't been seen before resuming to their intended destination. Eventually they arrive at a solid
Trick or treat Don't steal In hindsight I have to admit that I should have just said no, no to stealing, no to knocking over little kids and laughing at their tears as we stole the sweets that fell out of their bags or buckets. I thought I was being so funny by doing what my peers insisted I do so that they would like me, that usual teenage and young adult nonsense with many who are so desperate to be part of the popular crowd. I was an utter idiot and now understand why my gran and mum kept telling me to stop and think before doing something that would hurt others, karma really likes to kick you in the ass. Since I have until sun rise before the full punishment for my hubris kicks in then I'll explain. I was originally 22 years old, a young adult. I never had that many friends growing up as people thought I was too different from them despite my efforts to be like them, I wanted so much to fit in with the hope that in doing so I would be able to dull the distress within myself
A Falling Leaf That May Never Land by ReinaHW, literature
Literature
A Falling Leaf That May Never Land
Beginnings with endings all begin again Though people rarely tend to consider it, in their falling the leaves are a reminder that we are surrounded by death and new life, although the new life is harder to see than the death. The cycle of birth, life and ending. Humans are rather like leaves in a manner of speaking though we live longer our lives are just as brief, we are born, we grow, we live and eventually the time comes when death greets us. Then we are reborn into a new life to repeat the cycle rarely with the memories of the previous life. Humans have a habit of celebrating death but so much when it comes to life, when it comes to life it is often met with scorn by those who feel that life should be about hardship, hard work, reproduction and little else. As if death is their only motivation with the mindset that some heavenly award awaits their disdain for other people's lives. They must be quite disappointed to find out the truth. I was like that once, so hateful, so
I need to write, simple as, I need to write so here I am writing because I just need to. Writing can be a useful outlet for getting thoughts, feelings and emotions out so here I am doing this in he best way I can. Right now as I write I have been considering my actions that led to this point and I always come back to the one main thought - Oops. Just oops since what's happening right now is pretty much my fault as I was so sure that I knew what I was doing before the consequences of my action began to take effect, so oops. If I had to gauge my current age I would say I'm in my teens now and getting gradually younger as I type this, before long I won't even be able to do that beyond a jumble of mess that indicates that I've lost the ability to type and write. I should probably explain what happened while I have the chance. I was examining some kind of technology, at least I think it was technology, that was found in what we can only guess was a hastily abandoned house as there was
I don't care You died recently, much to my concealed delight, others are sad though because they saw you as a nice person, a pillar of their own community, a paragon of virtue as far as they are concerned but I saw you as what you truly were. I saw the monster that others refused to see because their illusion of perfection concerning you would be shattered. You abused me, mentally, sexually, you violated me and forced me to say nothing by using my fear and loneliness against me. You did to me what I can never fully heal from and I am glad you are dead, I do not and can not forgive you. You're dead which is a very bloody good thing. Oh I'm sure people would tell me to not speak ill of you, wouldn't be the first time that what you did to me is dismissed as one person's voice against the majority who sang your praises and still do as your worthless shell is lowered into the ground. They would tell me to forgive you, that what happened is in the past and that I should move on but I