Zion Journal 4
It was then then my voice recited a part of the old story from my youth. "i'm just a poor street urchin... i can't afford silver," i don't know what it was about those words, but i felt so much anger and pain course through my body.
(Old) Chapt 3. Artemis Vs. Zen
#3 of old stories this is one of the old stories i wrote years ago at the time i wrote this i was still developing my character, he use to be a mute (couldn't speak) and used telepathy but he isn't that way now.https://infinitiumwriter.wordpress.com/ story
(Old) Chapt 6. A Lonely Decision
#6 of old stories this is one of the old stories i wrote years ago at the time i wrote this i was still developing my character, he use to be a mute (couldn't speak) and used telepathy but he isn't that way now.https://infinitiumwriter.wordpress.com/ story
“The Tale of Willy-The-Wisp” As told to me by my Great Grandfather.
My grandfather was born and raised in dublin ireland and had lots of rich old stories to share!
Chpt 26- Seven Years
"still telling them that old story?" lunar chuckled. "they wanted to know about their father so why not?" "you did make sure to leave out the more graphical parts correct?" lunar scoffed.
Of Hate and Attraction: Prologue
I redid my old story. also do you guys have a tumblr. inbox me urs!! max this is a story about me, a boy, and a bunch of stupid things. i'm 15, a fox, with bright electric blue fur instead of the normal bright orange.
2020 A.D. Part 1 [unfinished]
#11 of alte geschichte/old story fiction© shane translate and correction © arkoninu thumbnail © jugg4 i would be really happy to get feedback, but please keep in mind this is not the end version of this story.
Prisoner's Lament
#3 of old stories this is a flash fiction piece i wrote sometime between 2015-17 about a fox being prisoner to a dragon. from the treacherous and stingingly cold waters of lake gondarr rose a haggard fox, his fur waterlogged and torn in places.
High School as a Satyr
Another old story from fa it was old and run down. the bricks were faded and slowly being eroded. the montel high school seemed to be abandoned but was still open all the same. even its doors, vintage frosted glass, made it look that way.
Inside
This one is another old story but i translated it only a few days ago. it features my fursona angel or, more precisely, the embodiment of his rage deep inside him. the text is very short but it means a lot to me. enjoy!
Mirthless Sunshine: Prologue
As the father told the old story about the flower king and his flower garden the streets outside filled yet again with black smoke.
The good doctor
But with time, what was the point of listening to the same old stories? these people didn't need him at all; they needed a shock therapy, one that could set them back on the right path, even if it could be harmful...