Another twig inserted onto his flesh. The boy removed the object trivially and continuously ran as though life would be ripped away at any given moment. Not a single second was dedicated to stopping track among the dense woods. “Come out guys!” screamed the boy in a hoarse voice. Then, the running suddenly stopped. Continue reading “The Babayaga and the Boy (Short Story)”
She, the wise old woman stares
at a former city with nightmares
left. Will good times ever return?
Or will this city forever burn?
She sees light of hope left
as armored ones fight with theft. Continue reading “Degraded Humility (Poem)”
I once had the chance to attend this get-together of people in the age range of twenty-five to twenty-eight. One phrase kept on creeping in that evening. “We’re so old!”
Old? Excuse me. For me, being old meant being close to death as a result of the body slowly crumbling from the passage of time.
Continue reading “What’s the Point of Old Age?”
What would I do to be eighteen again? I belonged to a group that would inevitably fall apart by summer. They were high school exchange students.
After some contemplation, I finally made the choice to showcase my love of writing through opening up this blog. Creativity can be emotionally draining, annoying, or even physically painful after hours of hard work. Here are four ways to fail in the arts!