Crimson whispers drift,Amber flames kiss earth's soft sigh—One last gleam, then night.
How does it work?
This felt surreal with a sad ending. Nicely done!
More stories from Muhammad Talha and writers in Poets and other communities.
Just as the world tilts forward, the horizon slits open, dusk spills like ink across a blade of road. Gravel hums underfoot, a low hymn. The wind snags on my coat, tugging like a child who won’t speak.
By Muhammad Talha5 months ago in Poets
she checks her rearview mirror and swerves a little the oncoming headlights float like fuzzy halos disorienting her, gnarled hands grip the wheel tighter
By Heather Hubler3 days ago in Poets
The Groundhog Contest had 39 entries. With 5 winners. First Place, Second Place, and a three way tie for third place. Just sharing winners for 1st place, and second place. Prizes are T-shirts, socks, and books...
By Denise E Lindquist5 days ago in Poets
He never arrived the ordinary way. No horse at the gate. No spurs clinking. No gravel crunching beneath hooves. If anyone had been watching from a distance, they would have sworn nothing approached at all.
By Leeza-Bridget Cooper6 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
This felt surreal with a sad ending. Nicely done!