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Literature
Judy's turn to cry
A bright orange wave flowed behind the sparkling black dress. The woman’s face was covered with dried tears. Her blue eyes were lined with heavy black makeup, and her lips were painted a deep scarlet. She wore a form fitting, micro-mini dress that sparkled in the Autumn sun. The small bar became smaller behind her as she ran far into the forest, losing her small high heeled boots while doing so. She ran further and further until she was lost. Her orange hair was similar to the leaves. The woman ran further into the forest, and the ground softened the further she went. There had been heavy rain two days ago, the ground was dry, yet soft, and the woman started to slow down, she sat on a rock and cried to herself.
She was distraught over being rejected by the woman she’d been in love with for years. She cried alone on the rock, holding her face in her hands. Another woman, wearing skinny jeans, a battered Harvard sweater, and a black hoodie slightly zipped down, displaying her cleavage.
Literature
Heaving Wrath: a Quicksand Drama
By Madison Sloane
Morgan rubbed her eyes and brushed her hair away from her face. She hadn’t slept much — hope that a search party would come find her made it difficult to sleep under the stars. As last night fell, enveloping the trail in darkness, Morgan found a small clearing off the main path where she decided to hunker down for the night. She wrapped herself in her jacket, using her backpack as a makeshift pillow, and tried to calm her racing thoughts.
The night was long and restless, the sounds of the jungle unfamiliar and unsettling. The darkness seemed to press in on her from all sides – broken only by the unsettling rustle of leaves or distant unrecognizable howl sending shivers down her spine.
As the sun illuminated the morning fog, Morgan realized she would probably need to make her own way back.
A head count hadn’t been taken on the tourist bus out to the waterfall trail. Since Morgan was traveling solo, who would even know she was gone?
12% battery left, Morgan’s
Literature
The Pale Reach
The Pale Reach
by PurpleFrogbot
Quicksand | Peril | Grim
A hunt fueled by revenge leads Evoni and her mother Nimah deep into the Pale Reach, a prehistoric wasteland where the bones of behemoths rise from their tombs beneath the parched earth, and Evoni must soon come to terms with the heartlessness of a land that gives and takes life on a whim.
Pronunciation
Evoni: EH-vo-nee
Nimah: NEE-muh
Nuruk: noo-ROOK
* * *
Evoni saw Nuruk in her dreams for many days after the demon attacked.
She saw the creature descend in the night with ravenous hunger. She heard the rush of great leathery wings and the croak of a gaping throat. She saw scattered embers and trampled tents. She heard the cries of her tribemates—cowering, fleeing, fighting.
She saw Talanu the shaman slain in the dirt, his body gashed by the beak of Nuruk.
She saw Narei the warrior kick her legs as she slid down the throat of Nuruk.
Every night, Evoni was haunted. Every night, she saw Nuruk.
Every night, she woke with hot
Comments3
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All the while i kept myself concealed, watching a short distance away, aroused at Eya's plight. 🥵🤭 Well done!