All the maps he made deepened the subterranean corridors of his imagination. Exploring these horrors and wonders made him smile.
All the maps he made deepened the subterranean corridors of his imagination. Exploring these horrors and wonders made him smile.
There's mouse in the gravity heating vent above my desk. I can hear it engineering a tiny siege engine. I expect tiny fiery debris.
The books in his library were filled with genocide, and he with grief. Yet his heart was warm, and life remained, despite it all.
She wed herself to the community, pulling the people to her, a sun with immense gravity. And she danced as a planet among many suns.
The sewers below boil with disease and murder. A curfew, self-imposed, settles on the district. Wannabe heroes descend into filth.
All stories writen for Confiction must fit within 132 characters. If you supplied us with a twitter account when you created your account here on Confiction, your story will be posted back to your twitter stream.
X CloseCreating an account at Confiction allows you to give kudos to other stories, submit stories directly from the site and…