River and Celia in Underland
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Mad-hap shenanigans, scrawlings, art and stuff ;)
Poetry Collection, Is this All We Get?
Achievements (25)
Stories (180)
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Gratitude in Two Parts
US, 2023
By River and Celia in Underland about a year ago in Humans
Manifesto of a True Visionary
He’d seen it a hundred times at least, but something about watching Cabaret made his winky tingle. It might have been the glamourous dresses or possibly the gravitas of that damn accent but more than likely it was the stirrings of ambition.
By River and Celia in Underland about a year ago in Fiction
Of Fire and Tide
The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished. The Lanterna mountains imploded, crashing into the ground - leaving behind only craters of soil and rock. Now devoid of sun, the flora and fauna that had once sustained the land wilted into nothing. The villagers began to starve. Many packed their belongings and moved onwards to more fruitful plains. Some died on the journey, others were lost to the harshness of the winter. Those that survived took root again but would wistfully remember the place that had been home. They would talk of the majestic Karianarga tree that would flower under the touch of the morning sun, leaving parcels of handtied food – succulent salifir meat, sweet mead cake and bottles of candied dew.
By River and Celia in Underland about a year ago in Fiction
His Story
The land was barren and cracked. Cracked like an egg. Broken. Burnt and charred by the ravages of war. Above the sky was bleak. Bleak and heavy with clouds that promised rain that refused to fall. Through the desolate path, the steady clink of metal against stone echoed as the horses navigated the land. The two men halted, their horses snorting uneasily. The older of the two, his eyes dark and laden with all that he had seen. And it had been too much. Dismounting, he scanned the horizon, his hand shielding his eyes from the simpering sunlight.
By River and Celia in Underland about a year ago in Fiction
The In-Between. Content Warning.
Life consists of the before and the after. There is nothing in-between. In lighter days, I remember the sea with a fondness that can only be felt in hindsight. As a young girl, the taste of salt on my tongue and the fresh breeze stirred by the ocean reached me in a way that others could not. The freedom of the sand swelling into my toes and the excited shrieks of my brothers as they dove headlong into the frigid water. It was life. Amidst the fray, I would often take a moment to look towards Godrevy and wonder what tragedies it had interrupted. On darker days, when the clouds were tinged with a drab grey, I wondered more if those souls had been grateful for the intervention or if they resented it.
By River and Celia in Underland about a year ago in Fiction
