Running, Dripping, BANG!
Ghosts reflected in misted air,
Silence, no breathing.
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from Steph Ruff and writers in Poets and other communities.
You don't know who I am. You don't know who I am, the oceans I've traveled and the battles I've waged. You don't know what I've been through.
By Steph Ruff2 years ago in Poets
I held it in my hands Tightly squeezing my grip so it would not get out I could feel it struggle as the light that fed it disappeared
By G. A. Botero6 days ago in Poets
when I sold my house to the golf course, I took cuttings from the camellias in my front yard and gave them to my mother to root.
By Harper Lewisabout 21 hours ago in Poets
Last year (2025), I challenged myself to write at least one story for each of the 48 Vocal communities. I have achieved that goal, but a lot of new community stories were cramped into the last two weeks of the year.
By Lana V Lynx6 days ago in Writers
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.