Fable
Who Or What Is The Woke Mob?
By way of metonymy, the 'woke' mob gets thrown around quite a lot in our modern political arena. So, what exactly do you think it means? And, what’s the best way to capture the essence of the message being conveyed, without being overly (or perhaps unbearably), critical of the Left? I’ve come up with a story to do just that. So here’s my personal reflection on what or who the 'woke' mob may be….
By Delusions of Grandeur 3 years ago in Fiction
The Daughter of Atlas
I sat alone, taking in the sight of the dying day. Nothing but the rhythmic sound of the tide ebbing and flowing interrupted the tranquility of my Isle. Purples and golds stretched across the evening sky, as sculpted clouds lazily passed through it. On my lips a song began. An old one, from a time before the Greeks came to be. There in the distance, I could see a speck. A small ship loaded down with food and drink. A single man steered it. Odysseus. My dear Odysseus.
By Daniel Bussey4 years ago in Fiction
The Sea Girl and The Sandman: Now We Have Cats
Where We Are This follows on from “The Sea Girl, The Sandman and The Christmas Kittens” and does sort of break up the sequence of the series but that is the nature of life, multiple things can follow on from single events, but these stories also stand alone. This is not so much a story as a situational description, essentially about the effect that cats can have on a household.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 4 years ago in Fiction
Shattering of Peace
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say, but it seemed like all I could hear were the piercing shrieks of terror and agony rising out of the chaos below the palace. The acrid stench of burning flesh and combusted armaments filled the air, and the ground seemed to shake with each mighty impact. With their homes ablaze, people were running, scrambling to escape the death that surrounded them. Mothers and children were desperately making their way towards the palace as their sons, husbands, and fathers were heading towards the barracks that were stationed along the outer gates of the city. In the distance, trails of dust rose as those who were working in the fields sped towards sanctuary. The imperial fleet emerged from the darkness of the cosmic clouds, inching closer with each passing second. The time had finally come. We were under attack.
By Kurt Mason4 years ago in Fiction





