*Editor's Note*
The following is one of the first accounts found after the wreckage of the 'world' as they knew it. After the din was sorted through and the world rebuilt it was published in obscurity however its cult appeal grew as one of the first known texts from the Hostile Perio...
*Editor's Note*
The following is an autobiographical piece written from the perspective of one Fernando Duffin in 2013, yet another work collected from the Hostile Period it gives us good insight into the day-to-day lives of average persons.
Chapter 17: Independence Day
"I swear by m...
Trick us did they?
The birds,
Come about as night like cold,
how time could bring with
the light shine of spring,
never above truth,
phantoms of worldly beauty,
simple and perfect,
between my morning and their memory,
change then only his
weather animal,
this garden song
used up by f...
Raining too but
more-after, ghosted
who were your wants?
together is the comfort
between evening and I, man,
night and his desire,
must keep love, the all,
shine us,
believe in truth,
morning, my memory,
dream or no beauty,
through weather,
almost,
always,
Forever.
--end...
Mine and yours
worth sharing
keeping and giving
forgetting and living forwards.
Share the tears over it.
Never remember the good,
Come like ghastly memories.
Love is death,
And I am become death.
Nothing ever ends.
--end...
Darkness in the soil,
Cracks in the shadows,
Once again,
We’ve been dragged,
Changed,
We’re all too the ground,
Only truth can break hold,
Our lives outwith it reaches, we shall search
Centuries for it,
lives squandered away,
Dry leaves crushed in the palm forever,
how can we be mea...
The crashing pain,
The brief inescapable complex which affects us all,
The world is a place to buy and to keep forever,
He who has the most in the end wins,
The worry thought of death!
Oh! The worrying thought of death,
How it affects us all?
Cringing always hidden like young men beneath ...
Lato Crooke wiped an indefinable bead of sweat from his brow and tucked his hair greased to a revolting degree into the brim of his Braves baseball cap and didn't feel the slightest bit of disgust. And again when he wiped his nose on the back of his hand he felt no remorse as he flipped the gr...
The year was 1887, and a cold and harsh winter, which smelled vaguely of cinnamon buns and wafers of dried orange peel, was befouling the Earth with its cupcakedly-blessed movements. The world was stuck in a kind of monotonous misfortune, completely calm and at the same time riotously vengeful-that ...
In the darkness scrambling around I heard the creature, I had only caught glimpses of it once or twice in the time period in which it began its chase, in the shadow of old man Hitter’s forest all I saw of it was its ice blue eyes which towered several feet above me, and it’s massive hulking shad...
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