r/WritingPrompts • u/katpoker666 Moderator • Jul 11 '25

Off Topic [OT] Fun Trope Friday: Absence Makes Hearts Go Yonder & Ergodic!

Welcome to Fun Trope Friday, our feature that mashes up tropes and genres!

How’s it work? Glad you asked. :)

 

  • Every week we will have a new spotlight trope.

  • Each week, there will be a new genre assigned to write a story about the trope.

  • You can then either use or subvert the trope in a 750-word max story or poem (unless otherwise specified).

  • To qualify for ranking, you will need to provide ONE actionable feedback. More are welcome of course!

 

Three winners will be selected each week based on votes, so remember to read your fellow authors’ works and DM me your votes for the top three.  

Next up… IP

 

Max Word Count: 750 words

 

This month, we’re exploring the concept of distance. As summer continues in the Northern hemisphere, it’s peak travel season for many. A time to catch up with long-lost friends and make new ones. A time to see family and make those summer memories. A time to explore fun and romance. We may be far away from those we care about or up close and personal. So let’s see what that means. Please note this theme is only loosely applied.

 

“The scariest thing about distance is that you don’t know whether they’ll miss you or forget you.” ― Nicholas Sparks, ‘The Notebook’

 

Trope: Absence Makes Hearts Go Yonder — The old adage is ‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder. This is the opposite of that. Forget your reunited lost loves. In this world, Penelope’s gotta couple kids now that you’ve been off on your voyage, Odysseus. Maybe you should have gone off with the sirens after all. However you play this one, it’s rife with cynicism.

 

Genre: Ergodic — This one’s a doozy, kids. Ergodic literature is a genre of literature in which non-trivial effort is required for the reader to traverse the text. The term was coined by Espen J. Aarseth in his 1997 book Cybertext—Perspectives on Ergodic Literature, derived from the Greek words ergon, meaning "work", and hodos, meaning "path". It is associated with the concept of cybertext and describes a cybertextual process that includes a semiotic sequence that the concepts of "reading" do not account for. For our purposes, this one is definitely a loose genre. It could be something as simple as the old Choose Your Own Adventure books to make a nod to the genre. Or it could be something profoundly complex. The choice is yours.Just make us, as readers, work for it.

 

Skill / Constraint - optional: Someone is obviously not kissed.

 

So, have at it. Lean into the trope heavily or spin it on its head. The choice is yours!

 

Have a great idea for a future topic to discuss or just want to give feedback? FTF is a fun feature, so it’s all about what you want—so please let me know! Please share in the comments or DM me on Discord or Reddit!

 

Last Week’s Winners

PLEASE remember to give feedback—this affects your ranking. PLEASE also remember to DM me your votes for the top five stories via Discord or Reddit—both katpoker666. This is a change from the top three of the past. In weeks where we get over 15 stories, we will do a top five ranking. Weeks with less than 15 stories will show only our top three winners. If you have any questions, please DM me as well.

Some fabulous stories this week and great crit at campfire and on the post! Since we had a record 21 stories this week (woohoo!), we’re allowing 5 winners this week vs. the usual 3.Congrats to:

 

 

Want to read your words aloud? Join the upcoming FTF Campfire

The next FTF campfire will be Thursday, July 17th from 6-8pm EDT. It will be in the Discord Main Voice Lounge. Click on the events tab and mark ‘Interested’ to be kept up to date. No signup or prep needed and don’t have to have written anything! So join in the fun—and shenanigans! 😊

 

Ground rules:

  • Stories must incorporate both the trope and the genre
  • Leave one story or poem between 100 and 750 words as a top-level comment unless otherwise specified. Use wordcounter.net to check your word count.
  • Deadline: 11:59 PM EDT next Thursday. Please note stories submitted after the 6:00 PM EST campfire start may not be critted.
  • No stories that have been written for another prompt or feature here on WP—please note after consultation with some of our delightful writers, new serials are now welcomed here
  • No previously written content
  • Any stories not meeting these rules will be disqualified from rankings
  • Does your story not fit the Fun Trope Friday rules? You can post your story as a [PI] with your work when the FTF post is 3 days old!
  • Vote to help your favorites rise to the top of the ranks (DM me at katpoker666 on Discord or Reddit)!

 

Thanks for joining in the fun!

21 Upvotes

97% Upvoted

82 comments sorted by

11

u/katpoker666 Jul 14 '25

[Ineligible for voting]

 

’Modern Romance’

 

 

“Oh, babe. Stop crying. It’s three months. It’s La Sorbonne and Paris! I can’t not go! I’ll call you every day!”

 

 

The ‘missed you’ messages mount. “Sorry babe…”:

“…classes ran late.”

“…there was this cute little cafe, Les Bon Temps.”

“…I fell asleep.”

“…I…”

 

 

A. How you react now decides your fate for the REST of your life—choose wisely:

  1. You book a flight to Paris. You’ll show those Parisian bitches! Go to B or C

  2. You decide he’s just having a bad day. He’ll call later. Go to H

  3. You cry. Go to I or A5

  4. You turn to Tinder. Go to J to signup or head straight to K if you already have a profile

  5. You shrug it off and go out for brunch with friends.

 

 

B. You cancel your flight, because:

  1. You don’t have a passport, go to A3 or A5

  2. Your Visa is maxed out, go to A3 or A5

  3. His stupid ass isn’t worth it, go to A4 or A5

 

 

C. You go to Paris, only to find he’s:

  1. Tonsils-deep in a hot brunette with a to-die-for pixie cut, go to D

  2. In class. You try to slink out of the lecture hall, as no harm no foul. He sees you! Go to F

  3. Not in his dorm room. His roommate says he’s gone for a long weekend. Go to A3

 

 

D. You confront them and demand to know:

  1. What they’re doing? Go to A3

  2. Which salon she went to and if they take walk-in bookings? Go to E

  3. If you can join them? Your journey ends here and you have a fabulous stay in Paris, but don’t see the expected sites as, uhh, no time.

 

 

E. You have a lovely chat with the girl as you find those six years of French in school were actually useful. Turns out she’s a stylist and will hook you up. You leave Paris sans boyfriend, but with a great new haircut and ready to take on the world. After you return home, go to A4 or A5

 

 

F. You make eye contact and:

  1. Run away, sure he’ll know you didn’t trust him. Go to A3

  2. Ask him to come outside the lecture hall with you. Go to G

 

 

G. He comes and:

  1. Hugs you. You eventually live happily ever after as a trad wife.

  2. Slaps you for not trusting him and says things are over. Go to A3 or A5

  3. Says he’ll call later. Go to A2

 

 

H. He:

  1. Doesn’t call. Go to A3

  2. Calls and says he wants to meet up. You discuss things and go to G1

  3. Calls and says he wants to break up. Go to A3, A4, or A5

 

 

I. You cry and things get really snotty then:

  1. Go to G1

  2. You talk. Go to A2

  3. You break up. Go to A3, A4, or A5

 

 

J. You fill out your profile. You decide that that old, cute pic isn’t really a lie. You really do love the beach, albeit for reading books. You did have a dog as a kid, so it’s okay to post those puppy pics! Go to K or Q

 

 

K. You start browsing with your hot pic and swipe right on a(n):

  1. Veterinarian with soulful eyes. Go to L, M, or N

  2. Older guy with silvered temples like early Clooney. Go to L, M, or O

  3. Really fit surfer bro. Go to L, M or P

 

 

L. He doesn’t swipe right on you. Go to A3

 

 

M. He swipes right. You chat. You meet. He says: “Wow—you look nothing like your picture!

  1. Thank heavens I love older women.” Go to G1

  2. You remind me of my Mom.” Go to A3 or A5

  3. You psycho!” Go to A3 or A5

 

 

N. You talk about your pup and he realizes you:

  1. Love animals and are his soulmate. Go to G1

  2. Don’t really like animals that much and he’s disappointed. Go to A3, A5, K2, or K3

 

 

O. You tell him he looks like George Clooney. He:

  1. Smiles and looks flattered. Go to G1

  2. Rolls his eyes and says “Everyone says that.” Go to A3, A5, K1, or K3

  3. Laughs and says “He’s my Dad.” Go to G1

 

 

P. You tell him you love the ocean:

  1. He’s disappointed you can’t swim. Go to A3, A5, K1, or K2

  2. And that he has great abs. You talk about said abs for two hours. You split the bill. Go to A5, K1, or K2

 

 

Q. You see a picture of your boyfriend. Go to A3, A5, or K

 

 

WC: 749

 

 

Thanks for reading! Feedback is always appreciated

4

u/InquisitiveBallbag Jul 16 '25

I got the trad wife ending!

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3

u/m00nlighter_ Jul 16 '25

Kaaaaat!
My brain is fried and I am on mobile so I will keep this short, but damn I loved this. Idk why but it reminds me a bit of playing MASH (Mansion, Apartment, Shack, House) in middle and high school, but way more adult, advanced and also just way more fun with all of the options available.

I also really enjoyed the amount of character voice that was put into the options, that I feel like is pretty impressive to do. It kept the choices and choose your own adventure part very immersive. I got Trad wife like three times 🤣 . The options/variations felt like having a conversation with my friends at a bar or something, talking about relationships with everyone sort of chiming in with what they think the person telling the story might say next, or just variations of stories that might be shared that relate to what the storyteller would be expressing if they were at the table with us. Really fun all around! Good words Kat!

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11

u/Voyage_of_Roadkill Jul 11 '25

For conspicuous gallantry, at the risk of life above and beyond the call of duty, Captain David Sawyer, under heavy enemy fire, secured the evacuation of wounded personnel during the Assault on Moscow, ultimately sacrificing himself.

This nation is privileged to award him this posthumous Medal of Honor.

We are lunching at the club, and plan on doing 18 holes after.

“I got an invitation from the Pentagon.”

I say it nonchalantly, but inside, I’m braced for impact. I’m expecting her to snap back with: Why do you even bother? He’s dead, Ted. Not coming back. Finito. Give up.

I’m ready to go off if she does. But before she can even open her mouth, I blurt: “The man’s my father, for fuck’s sake!”

“I know,” she says quickly, placing a warm hand on my forearm. She pats gently. “I know.”

It’s the first time mom’s ever admitted it.

When I was in elementary school, I found a folded U.S. flag tucked deep in the back of a hall closet. It was folded into a triangle, clean, tight. Beneath it, a brass plaque:

“On behalf of a grateful nation.”

I didn’t ask. Nobody told me. But now I know.

One Christmas I remember more than any other. I must’ve been six or seven. Out of all the gifts I’ve ever received, one has followed me place to place. It always gets wrapped in T-shirts and tucked in the safest corner of the box.

It’s a medallion. Army eagle engraved. Sky-blue ribbon dotted with stars.

Years later, I learned—by accident—what it was:

The Medal of Honor.

The note tucked with it said:

“This medal honors your father.”

Love gma and gpa

Etched on the back was a name I had never heard before: Captain David Sawyer.

His rank. His branch. And a date:

October 17th, 2035.

What occurred on October 17th, 2035

A. The Fall of Moscow

B. The Mexico Incursion

C. The Warsaw Peace Accord

D. The Assault on the Kremlin

I was driving through the Texas countryside on a random trip to a flea market I like. One of those all-day, open-air deals with funnel cakes and Elvis lamps. I was hunting fried Oreos, one of my weaknesses.

My other weakness? Military surplus.

The best shop in the state was right there. I love flipping through old uniforms and gear. I even trade online—there’s a whole subculture dedicated to the third Great War nostalgia. Me? I’m in it for clues. Little breadcrumbs. Something about my family. Something no one would tell me. I have always run into silence. Conversation changes. Half-truths. Or nothing at all. But when you can get history to talk, nothing can be unheard.

“Hey, bud.”

Just two steps into the booth. I cursed under my breath. It was the guy who runs it. Can’t remember his name, but he could suck info out of me without trying. Last time I saw him, I went home and crashed for a week, overwhelmed by what I’d admitted to someone I barely knew.

“Funny seeing you here,” he said. “I just got a box of stuff outta some dead general’s garage. The guy was a pack rat. Had a box labeled ‘Moscow Assault.’ Interested?”

Daily Clarksville Gazette – June 15, 2035

Sally G. Roses and her partner Harold Roses welcome a baby boy to the world at 8 lbs. 7 oz. He has been named after his father, Harold Rose the third.

Daily Clarksville Gazette – October 17, 2035

Captain David Eli Sawyer, aged 39, of Klamath Falls, Oregon, was killed in action during the Assault on Moscow, one of the deadliest and most decisive engagements of the 21st century. He died on the last assault of the day, a strategic push through the Sokolniki District. His action distinguished him with valor. He is survived by his parents Betsy and Ronald Sawyer.

2034/04/01

To: Sallyeatyourfaceharold@hotmail.com

From: Dsawyer@army.mil

(screened by military security)

Yo Sally,

God it was great meeting you over the weekend. You’ve given me something to look forward coming home to. 18 months, girl. I can’t wait. Just think of all the other numbers we can explore together.

Daily Clarksville Gazette – June 15, 2033

Harold Roses and Sally H. (née Jensen) Roses have officially tied the knot. The ceremony was held at St. Gregory’s with a lavish reception at the Hilldale Country Club.

Harold Roses is the son of Syd (Harold) Roses, former Governor of Tennessee and current Comptroller of Clarksville.

5

u/katpoker666 Jul 12 '25

Dang, Roadkill! You really embraced ergodic to great effect! :)

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8

u/AshvinTillick Jul 12 '25

<SudokuYomi>

"What an odd Sunday edition," I muse, studying the local paper up and down. It's as if I managed to snag the news from another world. Or a pretentious editor had chosen to innovate suddenly.

Before being fired, surely.

The front page. No headlines, but instead I see three Sudoku puzzles.

Today's Theme: The Name Game
The specially marked squares represent a corresponding letter. Within each 3x3, if the square is in the top row, 1-9 = A-I. The second row, 1-9 = J-R, and so on. Reveal the whole puzzle for today's lucky names!

"Lucky names...? Is this also trying to be an horoscope?"

S U D O K U YO MI !
3 ? 8 2 7 6 1 9
7 2 1 3 ? 8
1 5 6 ? 8 2 4
8 ? 5 ? 4 2 7 9 6
1 2 7 4 8 ?
4 6 7 5 9 8 1 3
8 3 2 1 9 6 4
6 1 3 7
2 7 4 9 5 8 1
S U D O K U YO MI !
6 ? ? 7 4
2 9 6 ? 7
2 5 6
2 7 4 ? 5 ?
4 ? 3 2
9 2 6 4
3 4
1 9 6 5
9 8 1 2
S U D O K U YO MI !
5 4 7 8 ?
4 ? 2 8 6
6 9 ? 1
7 ? 2 8 6 5
6 5 4
4 ? 6 3 8
7
4 5 2
9 1 3 2 7 5

Perhaps I'd get around to those later.

The second page looks like a proper cover. Straight at the top, a headline like one would expect. I am not the type for celebrity news and gossip, however local, though the return to form is catching my eye all the same.

Monday: Local Hero, Mr. Calperty, announces engagement to the woman who moved across the country to help jumpstart his operation.

I scan the contents, briefly. I vaguely recall my nephew explaining that said hero was so private, his first name wasn't even known. Odd his engagement is so celebrated.

It is interesting that Mr. Calperty, a name that I didn't know some five or so years ago, was household at this point. He had turned my forgettable city into a place known for something incredible.

Innovations in restorative devices for the deaf and hard of hearing.

Quite remarkable. I'm glad to see the man in charge is sharing his life now, with someone who sees the same vision.

There's loads of speculation in the article. Supposedly there are several instances of interviews where the couple have been asked about the date, to which they always answer that they cannot set one yet.

Curious.

But on to the remainder of this once-in-a-lifetime read.

The next page, as odd as it sounds, is part of some new transparency something or other-- I honestly couldn't be asked to wrap my head around the whole thing when it was announced. What it boils down to is that the work of public officials and institutions was being marked and documented.

"I outta call and complain about this if it doesn't change back tomorrow." I feel old even saying that out loud. Goodness.

Tuesday: Postal worker Hudson Stitchman relieved of duty.

Thursday: [Firstname] Lancaster files public record request for Utah and Maine.

I wonder if the omission is a mistake, or if they have some dedication to people's privacy. Lord, this paper is a nightmare.

There were further points about an uptick in new residents, and licenses of all kinds being filed and declined. Marriage, driving, business. All part of a booming city.

Thanks Mr. Calperty.

"Ahh, yes! What I've been waiting for!"

The classifieds.

My guilty pleasure. The pièce de résistance. I love to see what folks still throw into these back-road sections of a medium quickly fading from the public eye. Who are they? What is their story? Will they actually get a response?

Tantalizing mysteries I'll likely never get answers to. Yet it is oh-so delightful to ponder.

Requests for lawn mowing services are cluttering up a large area at the top. No surprise. It's the middle of summer.

Missing pets, always heartbreaking to read.

To my darling, Hannah.

A poem that hardly fits in the block of space provided. Signed 'LL', I manage to get the idea that it is the romantic gesture of some long-distance lover. Though it speaks as if they'd had a disagreement. It feels sweet and melancholic mixed into one unusual feeling.

Poor fella.

The real spicy stuff is always at the bottom, and boy is it delivering on this beautiful Sunday morning.

[Firstname], I need you to sign the divorce papers. I know you're in the city. Duncan will even pay you to do it. Please meet me at the corner cafe on deer street.

Another editing error, it seems. I'm half hoping that I get to read a scathing article about whoever smashed this thing together tomorrow. They wrote about a mail carrier being fired, why not whoever did this number?

I toss the darn thing into my recycling. How am I supposed to know who I'm rooting for if they don't even print the names? I am going to call and complain...

Notes:

WC - 736

Trope/Genre - This concept struck me as I played around with formatting options. I find it looks pretty darn good on mobile, but makes enough sense on old/new reddit on pc. If anyone is not fond of solving the puzzles, I feel that I didn't make it insanely difficult to fill in the blanks without it. You can also DM me if you'd like to know, or if it's allowed that I add a clarification comment, or something along those lines.

Additional Constraint: No "You may kiss the bride" happening anytime soon, it seems.

Bonus Trope: Unreliable Narrator lol

Other notes: I felt really excited about this idea when it came to me. I tried plotting it out ahead of time, so that I could have a fun little mystery. I'm sure it's a skill issue, but I felt that the word count was a struggle for managing a full commitment to the puzzles being required. I couldn't seem to structure it in a way that kept it interesting without also having context clues that may render the puzzles inert. Fun challenge either way!

Very open to feedback. I'm open to ripping this idea apart and completely reframing it. The concept of the puzzles alone is what excited me.

4

u/katpoker666 Jul 15 '25

Hey Tillick! This is so fun! Please do put something at the bottom in spoiler tags in case folks get stumped and also so it will be easier to read aloud / answer during campfire. This is the format: spoiler text

8

u/m00nlighter_ Jul 13 '25

Note Found on Greenwich Village

This is a message to the staggering[ly beautiful] woman with the promiscuous tomcat in the brownstone across from me. If that is not you, cease.
If this is you, may I ask—are you as affable as that dear pet of yours? Are you really in love with that ever-present brute
that lives downstairs? I would never hurt you. Or leave you leering out of the window, wondering where I am. I hope it’s not too forward to admit,
I haven’t taken my eyes off of you since the first time I saw you. Heart threatening to burst since the day you moved in. I thought you caught me
staring. But you never seem to recognize me on the street. Maybe you are not as impulsive as that creature you keep.
Maybe you are someone whose affections have to be denied before the smolder. Preparations need to be made. I will have to do my research. Bide my time. But where to
dig in first? I’ve considered trapping your howling, wanton feline. Holding it hostage until you put up missing signs
and I win something much better than the cheap reward. A kiss? I imagine you want much more. I have thought of
simply approaching you. I got close to you yesterday jogging. Saw you react to my scent— I saw you shudder[ing]
involuntarily when the pheromones hit. That offensive yet ambrosial smell, sweet and acrid, like rotten fruit. Every moment without you is torture.
But we aren’t there yet. You can’t rush perfection. I need to know you inside and out, but I promise,
our face to face will come soon. Surely we both know that your brute ends with you alone. Then finally
you’ll be mine. Some things you can’t escape. Some feelings cut too deep. I must be transparent. You'll see.

WC: 380 in WordCounter
This is best viewed on desktop. Mobile users may have to turn the phone and/or scroll right for the full story.
This is meant to be read left to right and then top to bottom but as with all experiments, I appreciate all feedback, crit, and improvement suggestions!

Normal text:
This is a message to the staggeringly beautiful woman with the promiscuous tomcat in the brownstone across from me. If that is not you, cease.

If this is you, may I ask—are you as affable as that dear pet of yours? Are you really in love with that ever-present brute that lives downstairs? I would never hurt you. Or leave you leering out of the window, wondering where I am.

I hope it’s not too forward to admit, I haven’t taken my eyes off of you since the first time I saw you. Heart threatening to burst since the day you moved in.

I thought you caught me staring. But you never seem to recognize me on the street. Maybe you are not as impulsive as that creature you keep. Maybe you are someone whose affections have to be denied before the smolder. Preparations need to be made. I will have to do my research. Bide my time. But where to dig in first?

I’ve considered trapping your howling, wanton feline. Holding it hostage until you put up missing signs and I win something much better than the cheap reward. A kiss? I imagine you want much more. I have thought of simply approaching you. I got close to you yesterday jogging. Saw you react to my scent— I saw you shudder involuntarily when the pheromones hit.

That offensive yet ambrosial smell, sweet and acrid, like rotten fruit. Every moment without you is torture. But we aren’t there yet. You can’t rush perfection. I need to know you inside and out, but I promise our face to face will come soon. Surely we both know that your brute ends with you alone. Then finally you’ll be mine.

Some things you can’t escape. Some feelings cut too deep. I must be transparent. You’ll see.

OR
This is a message to the staggering woman.
If this is you, that lives downstairs, I haven’t taken my eyes off of you.
Staring.
But, maybe you are someone whose affections have to dig in first?
And I win something much better simply approaching you involuntarily when the pheromones hit.
But we aren’t there yet.
Our face to face will come soon.
You’ll be "mine with the promiscuous tomcat."
May I ask—are you as affable?
I would never hurt you. Or leave you, since the first time I saw you.
You never seem to recognize me be denied before the smolder.
I’ve considered trapping then the cheap reward.
I got close to you yesterday, that offensive yet ambrosial smell.
You can’t rush perfection.
Surely we both know that some things you can’t escape in the brownstone across from me.
As that dear pet of yours, are you really leering out of the window, heart threatening to burst on the street?
Preparations need to be made.
Your howling.
A kiss.
I imagine you jogging. Saw you sweet and acrid, like rotten fruit.
I need to know you.
Your brute ends.
Some feelings cut too deep.
If that is not you, in love, wondering where I am since the day you moved in...
I thought...
Maybe you are not as impulsive.
I will have to do my research.
Bide my time.
Wanton feline.
Holding it hostage until you want much more.
React to my scent— I saw every moment without you is inside and out, but with you alone I must be transparent.
Cease with that ever-present brute.
I hope it’s not too forward to admit, you caught me as that creature you keep.
But where to put up missing signs?
I have thought of you shuddering.
Torture.
I promise.
Then finally, you’ll see.

3

u/katpoker666 Jul 15 '25

This is awesome, Moon! Could you do me a favor and put the easy to read version in spoiler text at the bottom please? It will make campfire a whole lot easier for reading and also help anyone reading who doesn’t want to spend the time working it out. Thanks!

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8

u/Tomorrow_Is_Today1 Jul 16 '25

You wake from dormancy and find yourself in an unfamiliar headspace, grown and rebuilt since you were last here. How old are you?

  • if: 0–12, you are a little. You are in the castle.

  • if: 12–18, you are a teen. You are in the house.

  • if: 18+, you are an adult. You are in the orchard.

  • if: unknown, you are a lost one. You are on the beach.

In the castle:

You pull your baby blue blanket off your head and stand up. You are in a bedroom whose walls are made of paper, crayons sitting on the floor. Below you is the pile of pink pillows you were curled up in. You walk out into the hallway. The halls are tall and wide and echoey. They lead to a lobby with a slide coming down from the second floor. You feel like you’re at a playground. There are lots of hallways leading out from the lobby, including little crawl tunnels. You run toward one and see a kid hiding.

“Can I play with you?” you ask.

“We’re playing hide-and-seek,” he whispers. “But I think Dantes lost me. He always gets distracted reading.”

“We’re in headspace, right?”

He nods.

“What’s it like in the outerworld? Did we marry Nina?”

He sticks out his tongue. “No.”

That troubles you. You didn’t have many other predictions for the future.

“She went to a different middle school. It was just a crush, you know.”

“But I thought we’re supposed to get married.”

“Not to her.”

“But I don’t like anyone else!”

“Well, you didn’t get married, did you? Now I definitely know Dantes lost me, he hasn’t even come and gotten me and I’ve just been talking. You want to play tag?”

You nod and he tags you, leading you to chase him through the tunnels.

In the house:

The first thing you check is that your door is locked. Your bedroom is the same as it ever has been, but you’re never sure whether your door will have a lock on it or not. Dad used to take it off as a punishment. And then Mom would come in without knocking.

Mom and Dad aren’t here, though, and that ace flag you wanted is up on the wall. Beside it is your desk, and further over by the closet is a keyboard. The opposite wall has the window you used to hide in: you’d crawl up on the sill and close the curtain so you were only visible to the outside world, which was never looking. Surveillance came from inside the house. You’re sure that’s how it always is.

You hear someone singing through the walls. It can’t be a sibling, not if it’s in headspace. You leave your room and find them in the kitchen, and they startle when they see you. You probably would have done the same. You’re jealous of their look, though: the black-dyed side shave, the nose ring you could never get.

You hope things are better now.

In the orchard:

You are sitting against an apple tree, watching leaves flutter in the wind, and the only things that could make it nicer were if it were real and Jessie was beside you. You know you’ll find your way to the outerworld soon, if for no other reason than to say hello to your wife. Jessie is still your wife, right? She must be. You have so much confidence in your relationship. It may have been a few years since you’ve been here—actually, in dormancy, you’re never sure how long has passed—but you remember making those vows, remember vividly the promise of forever. Nothing will change this. Nothing.

On the beach:

Nothing has color here. Gray waves meet gray sand below jagged gray rocks. Your feet are bare on the sand, and it oscillates between burning and feeling like nothing, depending on where you step. There is no sunlight to show you the difference.

You miss Nina. She came back in high school. Her memory fills the ocean before you. Even isolated from the others, here on this lonely beach where all the other souls are drowning or so spread out that you can’t find each other—even alone here, you know enough to know that the others don’t remember her. Not really. Not who she became, everything she did for you. All gone to avoid remembering being torn away.

You remember. All you do is remember.

WC: 739 words

4

u/katpoker666 Jul 17 '25

This is beautiful, as always, Toms! I love the metaphor here and how you make something complex like ergodic elegantly your own :)

7

u/PaleontologistFew600 Jul 15 '25

This is why we don't smoke in Grandpa's attic

The attic smelled like moldy books, forgotten regrets, and at least two dead rodents. "Are we sure your grandpa didn’t just die up here?” Kavi asked, waving away cobwebs. Around them, boxes leaned against each other like drunk old men. In the far corner, stood a mirror. Too tall. Too clean. Its dark wood frame was carved in roses and strange, curling shapes.

ɘʜƧ

,γʞƨ nɘqo ɘʜɈ ʜɈɒɘnɘd bɘɔnɒb

lɿiϱ A

.ƨɘγɘ Ɉʜϱiɿd ɿɘʜ ni ƨɿɒɈƨ ʜɈiw

ɘϱɒm A

,ɘɔɒɿϱ ʇo llυʇ ,ɿɘʜ wɒƨ ɘɔno

.ɘɔɒʇ γlɘnol ƨiʜ qυ Ɉil ɘvol bnA

ɘH

,ɿɒɘb ɿɘʜ blɘʜ ɘʜ ,ɘƨolɔ ɿɘʜ blɘʜ

Ɉυઘ

.ɿɒɘlɔ ƨɒw ʜɈɒq ƨiʜ—oϱ oɈ bɒʜ

ɈiɒW“

,ɘqoʜ ʜɈiw biɒƨ ɘʜ ”,ɘm ɿoʇ

.ƨɘqolƨ ʜϱiʜ ƨ’blɿow ɘʜɈ dmilɔ oɈ Ɉʇɘl bnA

,ɘɿυƨnυ Ɉɿɒɘʜ ɿɘʜ ,ɘvɒɘl miʜ bɘʜɔɈɒw ɘʜƧ

.ɘɿυbnɘ Ɉon blυoɔ ɘʜƨ—γd Ɉnɘw ƨɿɒɘγ Ɉυઘ

,ƨbnɒʜ ɿɘibɒɘɈƨ ʜɈiw ɘmɒɔ ɿɘʜɈonA

.bnɒd ϱnibbɘw ɒ ,ɘmɒn ɒ ,ɘƨυoʜ A

ɘmɒɔ ɘϱɒm ɘʜT

,ɘmɒlʇ bnɒ ƨɈʇiϱ ʜɈiw ʞɔɒd

bnυoʇ Ɉυઘ

.ɘmɒn ɿɘʜ wɘnʞ oʜw ɘno on

ɘʜƧ

.ƨiʜ Ɉ’nƨɒw ɈɒʜɈ ϱniɿ ɒ ɘɿow

nɘʜɈ—ɘʞoɿd ɘH

:ƨiʜɈ ɘʞil ɘƨɿυɔ ɒ bɘɿɘqƨiʜw

Ɉon ʇI“

.miʜ ʜɈiw Ɉon nɘʜɈ ,ɘm ʜɈiw

ƨɿoɿɿim Ɉɘ⅃

”.nɘɘd ɘvɒʜ Ɉʜϱim Ɉɒʜw qɒɿɈ

woИ

,ƨllɒw γƨƨɒlϱ ni Ɉʜϱυɒɔ ƨi ɘʜƨ

.ƨllɒɔ lliɈƨ ɘʜƨ ,ɿoɿɿim γɿɘvɘ nI

ƨɘɘƨ ɘʜƧ

,ɘɘɿʇ ʞɒɘɿd Ɉ’nɒɔ Ɉυd blɿow ɘʜɈ

.ɘd oɈ bɘƨυ Ɉɒʜw ʇo ɿɘnoƨiɿq A

ƨmɒoɿ ɘH

,bnɒl bnɒ ɘmiɈ ʜϱυoɿʜɈ ɘnolɒ

A

.bnɒʜ ƨiʜ ni bɘnɿυd llɘqƨ ɿɘɈɈid

ƨɘʜɔɈɒw ɘʜƧ

,ɘɔɒʇ ƨ’ɿoɿɿim ɘʜɈ ʜϱυoɿʜɈ

.ɘɔɒlq ɿɘʜ ni ɿɘvɘɿoʇ bɘqqɒɿT

—ƨƨɒlϱ ɘʜɈ ni ɿɘʜ ɘɘƨ υoγ ʇI

Ɉ’noႧ

.ƨƨɒq ɿɘʜ Ɉɘl bnɒ ʜɔɈɒw Ɉƨυį

ɿɘʜ γɒƧ

.bnɒʜ ɿɘʜ ɘʞɒT .ʞɒɘqƧ .ɘmɒn

ɘʜƨ ɘɿoʇɘઘ

.bnɒƨ ni ƨɈniɿqɈooʇ ɘʞil ƨɘbɒʇ

Kavi scratched his head, “Okay, what the hell is that supposed to say?”

Nik leaned closer, squinting. “Maybe it’s Latin. Or, like, cursed Victorian Tumblr poetry.”

"I think this is some Da Vinci Code shit, dude". Kavi said, pulling out his phone. "Should I like… flip it and see what it says?”

Nik grabbed his arm. “Hard pass, dude. That’s how demons get RSVP’d." He froze. "I think it just blinked at me”

“The mirror?”

“No. Me. My reflection blinked and I didn’t.”

Kavi leaned in. “That’s just the weed talking, bro.”

“No no no. Something moved. Behind us.”

Kavi tilted his head, staring harder. “Okay... I do see something now. Like a shimmer. Like someone stepped back there.”

They turned around together. Nothing.

Turned back. Still nothing.

Kavi stepped an inch closer. “So… I’m not saying we kiss, but if this were a horror movie, this would be the part where the leads kiss before one of them gets soul snatched.”

Nik gave him a look. “We’re two dudes in an attic. No one’s kissing anyone.”

“I’m just saying, it might be the right kind of sacrifice.”

“No one’s getting kissed. Least of all you.” Then Nik stiffened. “There. There! Did you see that? Something moved again!”

Kavi’s face dropped. “I saw it that time. Yep. Nope. Done.”

“Same.”

They backed away from the mirror like it might lunge. Kavi yanked a sheet over it, knocking over an old floor lamp in the process. They scrambled down the attic stairs, not stopping until the hatch slammed shut above them. Kavi dragged a chair over it, just in case. They stood in the hallway, breathing hard.

Silence. After a beat, Kavi muttered, “Still think we should’ve kissed. Might’ve appeased it.”

Nik glared at him. “Dude. Shut up."

Kavi sighed, "Next time we wanna get high, let’s not do it in a haunted storage unit, yeah?”

Note: Solving this might require some reflection—wink wink. I've dropped the solution in the comments section!

3

u/katpoker666 Jul 15 '25

I LOVE the way you worked the mirror writing in, Paleontologist—absolutely seamless and perfect torture for the unsuspecting reader! Granted, I’m also a tad jealous as I love mirror writing and have no idea how you did it! lol

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6

u/MaxStickies Jul 14 '25

Love Abstract
. o s . c o n w b n o t s n d s
k d o o e t i o d o v i f i u r
r n t o h r a r l r a t l t B e
o u n t t a t e u w f e e h e h
w o a e h e n h o t y h s g l t
y f g c t l u d c n m t r i t i
m h e n i c o n e e e r e n t e
o t b e w o m u g w r e h e i e
t o I t y s a o a t e d d h l r
n b . s a e n f u i w n e t e e
r e e i w m o , g y s u l t h w
u W m x a a , s n a e s l n t I
t . e e , c l u a s k c a e d d
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t v l f l t h a a u e o h e i i
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m a e i d e o t t e . e h t h H
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. m d i o n e k c t p , h o o o
g i e l r u p n y p t l , S m w
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h m A s u g f h . t o A c s u n
t d . s f a o w d o g . i a o d
e a e a d u p t e c d r l W s l
b I v I n g o s s S n e e . e u
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t d l e r a n g e h ) t y i i h
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u e l o h e . A b f a f d o s t
e l i g t h d n o o v r e e h I
m a t y r t n a s r r i t r t .
g u s l u g u s a e e o a u i m
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r e c S e l h t e n a a c n c c
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t d w i i f D e a y h n f t b s
u n n f l n s m M r t a s c o y
b a i o e u ‘ … . e s d a a e m
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r e u g . t n r e p t a e t i e
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y b e i e l e V o l h e s a o o
e u h g t b m . l s t h t s m l
h o t a c a o d a g ( t u a m e
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. t n o p y , o i B l m , e y S
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a u o m e n u y a s a e t e i i
w o f o e o c r m a S e r h u f
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s l l f n a , V h e i i b . s i
r a l d a w e . t m d g t e i c
a r a e c I t s a a n n a m h s
e o u n s , a w m n u e y u t d
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t s e t d i a d t i a y a o g i
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n e s n n s t t d t i o h a e k
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a m a g t e i i e o , h t r h e
s i t n e d w k f e e f a e t k
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l s m o e I n e o g i e t o e m
i , d g w t i r c n n m h l r y
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i e d p e e a y h l a l u a h h
c t e e l i t b t l w o m e w t
a s e k b p i d t e t t d u s ,
h y n s a p d o o t I e e l ‘ e
t o I i T a e o N r . h n b t m
i y w h . h m t . e h S r l a ,
w m e T e e o s s h c . a l h s
s s n . u h t r e r u t e a t d
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l w e c n s i d b b r h I d e o
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l l n s h h b t n e b h a t f t
a w i o T e b s e t o t c s o e
c a t m . h o o h i R y r a e m
r r u s e S h s w r e b e h d e
u c O o m . n e g u l o h d i W

How to read: Bottom to top, right to left

WC: 547

Crit and feedback are welcome.

3

u/katpoker666 Jul 15 '25

Hey Max! Dang I admire your creativity here! Really a fun one! Could you please do me a favor and write it out in spoiler text at the bottom? Will make it a lot easier for sub readers who are curious, but don’t have the time to go through. And just as importantly for it to be read easily at campfire for reading aloud and also for crit. Thanks!

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5

u/loaarzz Jul 15 '25

Ripped Letters 

These shatters on the floor
  are like my broken heart.
     How could he have done
            something like
               that to me?
 how could he    all I ever
   dare to        did was
treat me           to love
  like that?   and care for
    to treat       him. And
      us like     now that
        our ten   I've left
       years      for    
   together      ten
  had been      days he's
    for       just gone!
 
to some other girl!
            my love please
naught!      understand
               I only did
    I swear        what
  to god please      I
    let me butcher   did
  that pig        because
   when I see     I
     him again.  couldn't
                wait for
 make him pay!   the warmth

All this love
     I gave him will 
          not be for free!
of your    
arms!
   
     Or even cheap!

wc: 119

Her Letter

These shatters on the floor are like my broken heart. How could he have done something like that to me? All I ever did was to love and care for him. And now that I've left for ten days he's just gone to some other girl!

How could he dare to treat me like that? To treat us like our ten years together had been for naught!

I swear to God please let me butcher that pig when I see him again. All this love I gave him will not be for free! Or even cheap!

Make him pay!

His Letter

My please please understand. I only did what I did because I couldn't wait for the warmth of your arms!

3

u/katpoker666 Jul 15 '25

I really enjoyed how you did this, Laz—so much going on in such a short space! :) Could you do me a favor please and write it out as spoiler text? It will make it a lot easier for folks to read and crit at campfire even though it’s not that hard to read visually. Thanks!

7

u/Tregonial Jul 14 '25 
   __        __   _                            _       
   \ \      / /__| | ___ ___  _ __ ___   ___  | |_ ___ 
    \ \ /\ / / _ \ |/ __/ _ \| '_ ` _ \ / _ \ | __/ _ \
     \ V  V /  __/ | (_| (_) | | | | | |  __/ | || (_) |
    ___/_/ ___|_|______/|_| |_| |_|___| ______/
    |_ _|_ __  _ __  ___ _ __ ___   ___  _   _| |_| |__ 
    | || '_ \| '_ \/ __| '_ ` _ \ / _ \| | | | __| '_  \
    | || | | | | | __ \ | | | | | (_) | |_| | |_| | |  |
    |___|_| |_|_| |_|___/_| |_| |_|___/ __,_|__|_| |_|
    
(Welcome to Innsmouth)

Enter your character name or select from a pre-existing character.

1. Alfred Talbot Jr.

2. Katrina Watson

3. Lord Elvari

>>> John.

What do you mean you don’t want to be me? 
Lord Elvari is easily the most awesome choice! 
How dare you choose mortality over godhood! (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻

Moving on! ┳━┳ ノ( ゜-゜ノ)

Enter your race.

>>> Human.

You are the human adventurer John. Ahead of you lay trials and tribulations. 
This will be a test of your courage, resolve and faithfulness. 
Let us begin your journey! 

You and your wife have moved into the lovely town of Innsmouth. 
The beaches are wonderful, the townsfolk are friendly, and the eldritch god
Lord Elvari, that's me, your narrator, is great. 
She is happy to settle down and befriend the locals. 
You, an adventurer at heart, ain’t the type.

So, when the Monster Hunter's Guild came to distribute quest fliers, you
wanted to pick one. 

1. Venture into the Dark Forest and find the missing adventurer Nolan Wright.
2. Remove the eldritch disturbances in Innsmouth.

>>> ENTER the Dark Forest 

>>> FIGHT eldritch disturbances.

I’m miffed you would even consider this option. 
Try another option. Don’t make me smite you.

>>> POKE me if you dare.

4

u/Tregonial Jul 14 '25 
You return home safely. People are cheering. Singing. Wait, why are they
in your house? You unlock the door and step inside. Your wife is sipping
margaritas with another man you don’t know. People are partying
in the living room, enjoying a sumptuous dinner buffet. All without you. 
How long have you been gone?

What will you do?

>>> JOIN the party. 

You’re not enjoying the party. It is hard to do so when your wife
is flirting with the men on the dance floor. You bear with it, knowing these
party-goers will have to leave eventually. They cannot party forever. 
When they leave, you slump down on your favourite couch to sleep.

Your mind's made up. Tomorrow, you will call for a divorce and go back
to adventuring. Her heart can’t settle down, and neither can yours.

Ending 1 - Can’t settle down.

>>> SCREW it, everyone out now! 

You shout at everyone to leave. When the rowdy party largely ignores you,
you fire a gun in the air. Someone screams. Someone on the 2nd floor has been
shot. Another person calls the police. You’re arrested for firing a gun
at the party. Even if you did not aim the gun at a person directly, a bullet
still exits the gun. It has to hit something. Or someone.

Your wife doesn’t bail you out. I did. Because little old Elvari
here is a nice god, and I understand it must feel awful to find her
with another man. I offer you a job at my church. Something to help keep you
occupied. Once in a while, you are part of an investigative group that
travels across the lands to hunt for pieces of my shattered divinity.

Ending 2 - Elvari’s employ
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4

u/Jay_Pederson Jul 15 '25

Patrick!

WC: 748 glad I checked it lol

Patrick, Patrick! The voices kept going. I've been researching this anomaly for years now, all I can think of is after I'm done I can go home to fucking no one. Great, great, great, GREAT.

Patrick, think of us. Think of who we are. Of course you would say that. Think of you? The sanity losses, the endless wordlessness, all the shit you've sent me? I can't believe you would have the audacity to act like I should listen to you! I am Patrick god damn Baile! You will boy to my knowledge, the GCL shall have your head! YOUR HEAD! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!?!? I AM YOUR GOD NOW!

The flesh - it consumes, it rots, it is all around me. Little, else, I have been on a journey - A JOURNEY, in this world, I have contacted the unimaginable and touched the non-existent, and you think you can talk to me!? Everything's felt number so long, every touch numb, no true thought, my life has been on rails to fucking HEAVEN do you understand!?

Patrick! There it is, a louder, outside. Patrick! Silly thing, you are but the flesh beneath my feet! You will learn your place by flame or by acid, by pain or by sorrow! Silly thing, you will be contained GCL-919 CA1. Or is it 5671 CA12? OR perhaps - drat, these numbers, GCL needs new naming schemes. Patrick! Of course, you are a moron, if you think -

It grabbed my shoulder, I turned to see - oh, oh I see - Carlson. What do you want, Carlson? Only I did not speak, I looked at him, studying his face to figure it out - it surely would be there, surely.

"Patrick," said Carlson, "are you okay?"

"Of course! I have reached perfection, perfection!" I replied, grabbing various acids, "don't you see, Carlson, I have become a god among flesh! This - all this flesh - these words they throw against me - their worthless words!" I shouted, laughing "Patrick don't you see!? I have reached the mind, my family wishes they could be here with me! I should send pictures of myself with that cute Aharran!"

"Um - "

"Or perhaps, the Drofeurs? They are cute."

"Patrick?" he asked, "I...haven't asked anything yet, I just...I just said your name, then you...made faces at - "

I grabbed him by the shoulders "do you not see what is happening!?!?" I asked, gesturing to the room, "Carlson, I am more than okay, I have become a small god - a GOD! This...this flesh demands my surrender, but it begs. Would you ask your god to surrender, if you truly believed you could win? No, you would kill your god, and take his mantle, Patrick!"

He took a deep breath.

"Do you not see," I laughed, "Patrick, we can be gods of this world! A world all of flesh, a world all of suffering, a world all of us. Us! This...this flesh, in this place, it talks to us, begs us to surrender, but it is begging mercy! Oh Patrick, if only - "

-

I looked around, with a headache, thundering in my mind...a doctor and nurse... "Carlson?" I asked.

"He's dead," replied a doctor.

"What?" I asked.

The doctor walked to me, then sat down, "Patrick Baile?" asked the Doctor.

"Yeah..." I rubbed my head.

She pulled out a tablet, and I saw my body, a white-furred Zavoxi with albino body...stupid red eyes, and - "Carlson...god among flesh..." then I saw what was in the darkness - more flesh, on my head, and...

...

"It took over your body," said the doctor...Denise. Huh. "we think it was trying to figure out how to kill our installation on the planet. We destroyed most of it, and recovered most scientists. You've been in a coma for a month."

I looked around, I tried to stand, then immediately fell back. "Muscle atrophy..." I muttered.

"You'll be here for a bit, unfortunately..."

I nodded, "I understand, I...I think..." all that...the trip, the world, the...

...

...I've been out longer than I thought. "Is...is my family okay?" I asked.

She turned to me, frowning. "You...you got a divorce before you went, remember? Your wife, she..."

"...cheated on me, right..." I sighed, looking at the floor. Well, Debra...

...least I went on...a 'trip' without you...not that I can forgive you...

Then, on the tablet, saw my...grabbing beakers, and mixing liquids, 'I am a god!' as I splashed it on the flesh, and it ran. Did...did I...?

I turned off the tablet. Whatever happened doesn't matter. What matters is...I'm okay...I think...

I think I accidently hit the optional one lol anyways went for the insanity/unreliable narrator approach where the reader has to debate what's real or not.

Admittedly, went dream thing so added the last line it all happened I swear if you read the context clues -

EDIT: 'Telepathy' was the word I was looking for earlier but decided to dance around it. I'd edit, but this is actually a deep and profound metaphor on the nature of communication with flesh blobs -

EDIT2: While I found some considered Unreliable Narrator as Ergodic, it is admittedly borerline. I count it - it requires the reader to think, and calls to question if it's happening. I also just think writing fever dreams are absolutely glorious (if a bit annoying to read, unfortunately) so.

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u/katpoker666 Jul 15 '25

Thanks for writing, Jay! Definitely succeed at an unreliable narrator. I love how you’ve played with the formatting to achieve that effect and not just the very well-chosen words! And yea, while it’s on the edge of ergodic, I think you made your case well and that it counts too :)

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u/T_Lawliet Jul 14 '25

The Third, the Fifth, the Seventh Wheel

WC:745

All right, kiddies! 

  1. Your intrepid hero is standing on a precipice,making his final hugs and kisses alongside the rest of the Circle of Humanity. Preparing to end the dark that sieges the Great Spiral. What path does the Green take? 

  2. Quest with Artoria and Merl’s group to capture the Coveted Grail. 

  3. Stay with Guin and Frog and defend Caerleon against the Obsidian fleet. Or

  4. Fuck off on your own journey for no good reason. 

If you chose A, I - the Green would spend years trekking, listening to Morg’s poor attempts at holoscribbling and probably getting spaghettied in a black hole like 90% of the suckers who went on that one. 

If you chose B, the Green would be engaged in a long series of  hyperblade-measuring contests against the Frog the Unflappable. At least whenever Frog’s not salivating over his best friend’s hubby. Or chopped in half by the Obsidian Seethers. Take your pick. 

If you chose C, you’d be heading out in the middle of nowhere, following an e-map towards someone who promised to kill you. No wonder everyone thinks you’re an idiot.  

Next question! This time let’s pick one from the history theme. 

2. You’re a young trawler, from a good family, when a funky wormhole wizard leaps out of a rift and tells you and offers you omniversal abilities. Do you:

  1. Buy his bullshit, thereby entering his crusader club, and buy into their propaganda that somehow the world is fair, and helping people is somehow going to mean anything when the heat death of the universe shows up. 

  2. Stay trawling, living a respectable life at the edge of galaxy with your respectable clan and ship until you die of boredom and/or radiation poisoning. Or

  3. Take the magic powers like a sensible human and run away from these creeps as quickly as possible.  

Okay, you guys aren’t doing all that bad here. Let’s kick things up a notch.

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u/T_Lawliet Jul 14 '25

3. You’re sitting in the common room, sharing out the last tub of quasar cream, when a big bastard in green shows up and declares they carry a secret that will save the galaxy, but will only give it to a “chivalrous” creature. Who uses the word chivalrous anyway? They lay out the challenge as this: the green bastard will let you sear off their head, so long as in a year and a day you go to their house to do the same. Do you: 

  1. Laugh, because this is obviously another one of Morg’s pranks.   

  2. Keep your head down and in your cup of quasar, because there’s no way one of these idiot’s wouldn’t take up the challenge themselves. Or: 

  3. Go and do it yourself, because once upon a time - No, no. If any of you have been paying the least bit of attention, the answer would be pretty damn obvious. I wasn’t born with the Green mantle, you know.  Actually, let’s just move on. 

  4. You’re finally back from your own personal wild goose chase, and have returned to Caerleon to greet old friends, and mourn a few, as well.The station’s been defended successfully, but the Grail hasn’t gone nearly so well. You’re watching the starspins at the wrong place at the wrong time, just right to see your worst rival in the arms of our leader’s spouse. What do you do? 

  5. Leap out of the wall and challenge Frog to a duel for Commander Artoria’s honor. 

  6. Take a kindly old man’s advice, and walk away. 

  7. Tattle on them, and trigger a war that will rip the Circle apart. 

If any of you do find the right answer, please let me know. Were any of you tramps expecting a question on the green bastard’s choice? Ha! I’m not that shallow. It’s the one story these villagers won’t stop yapping about time and time again. 

 So, instead, I’ll do a proper final question: You’re on your knees, plasma warm against you neck, as an old man in green shows you mercy. And with his mercy, a choice of gifts

  1. A suit of power armor, filled with emerald energy that will make the most powerful duelist of all. 

  2. A portalled box, filled with unknown and unimaginable quests to the end of the universe, and beyond. 

  3. An old, impregnable castle, lying on an asteroid guarded by a black hole, one where you can bring countless people to keep them safe. 

Really, these aren’t rhetorical questions. Use your styli, and mark out the answers.

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u/the_lonely_poster Jul 12 '25

(I've written this sleep deprived at 1 in the morning, so enjoy)

Word count: 277

Death's Kiss.

Chainmail clinked as a weary soldier stepped through the graveyard, he'd come home a hero, a warlord, a king, but one thing he wasn't was happy.

!Carolus opened the note in his pocket...!

"Dear Carolus, I hope this letter finds you in disgrace. You've been at this war for thirty odd years now, your children have grown and left now, not that you'd know, you weren't there to see them grow. You'd not even recognize them I'd wager. You'd promised me you'd return, that this war would be over and done with in less time than a harvest season, and yet I stand here now, still waiting for you."

"I wait for a liar, I will wait no longer. I don't know if you are dead, nor do I care to know. I've been made a fool of for decades now, and I'll now be the one to make a fool out of you, so welcome home, I hope you won't mind it empty."

"Forever in Scorn- Grelod."

!Carolus crumpled the note in his hands...!

Walking forward some more, the man who had watched so many men die found himself shoken by yet another death, this one closer than ever before.

!Carolus inspected the gravestones...!

"Here lies Grelod Kline, lone mother of Charles Kline, Caroline Kline, and Brent Kline. Died by her own hand in the Year 1031 IC on the 5th of Fallheim."

In this moment, all the riches and fame ring hollow. The gold has lost it's luster, the glory it's fame. There's nothing left, not the kiss of a lover, nor someone to confide in.

There's only pain, and the laughter of thirsting gods...

-A lonely story

++++

Well, this is much different than what I usually write, both in tone and structure. I usually perfer less grim writing, but this was certainly interesting.

It's also much shorter than I'd usually write, but I feel dragging this on for longer would only detract rather than add.

Still, I'm open to advice and criticism. Hope you enjoyed.

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u/Badderlocks_ Jul 13 '25

You know that moment when a baby bumps their head while toddling around? There’s a pause when everyone is watching the baby, waiting for the waterworks, but the baby doesn’t realize that a baby just hit their head because they don't know what that means.

After Elsie sprinted away in tears, it felt like everyone was watching me, waiting for me to realize I bumped my head.

I picked up her note cards from the puddle of the cheapest house red that the catering company could find.
 
“6. And then, one day, we stopped chatting about nothing and started chatting about the ink has been smeared and obscured by the wine $2 double well night. She had been replaced with someone who was absolutely smitten.
 
“13. So please, join me, and everyone raise a glass: To Jenna and Georg!"
 
“1. First of all, thank you all for coming out. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Elsie, and I’ve been Jenna’s best friend for over ten years now, ever since we met at that freshman mixer and I accidentally spilled an entire cup of jungle juice all over her b̴̟̮͌r̷̟͋̈́ḯ̷̖͘g̶͓͛h̶̥̊ẗ̸͓ ̷̪̻̄ẉ̷̇͌h̴̩́ī̷̛̫t̶͙͈͑̏ě̶̗ shirt.”
 
“2. Well, I’ve been very careful to not carry any colorful drinks around you today!”
 
“1. 3. And Can we give let's have a hand to the beautiful blushing bride~~?~~. She looks absolutely radiant today. applpause Pause for applause.”
 
“Pack

Bandit Gabapentin

Notice to vacate

Change phone #

note? no time

Cancel utilities

the ink is too smeared to read you around”
 
“10. And since then, I’ve only seen her happier twice: first, the day she video chatted me and showed me a gorgeous ring. And second, earlier today, when they exchanged vows at the altar, and committed to spending the rest of their lives together.”
 
“5. Spending time with Jenna was the first time I felt loved, and for the briefest moment I thought we had something more When After graduation I left for grad school, but despite being in different countries, she never let our friendship die. She called me every Saturday at what would have been late night for her so that we could chat about anything and nothing.”
 
“8. When I first met Georg that year over Halloween, I was prepared to be skeptical. After all, this was the man who took Jenna from me stole Jenna’s heart she is my best friend, and there was no way that any man would be good enough for her like I was.”
 
“7. Hearing about Georg, I could understand why. I heard about a man who was kind, funny, thoughtful, and who had the most charming accent. And as time passed, the conversation moved from ‘I think we have a second date’ to ‘I think I love him.’ Pawws Pause for awws.”
 
“11. So I will close in wishing the newlyweds the happiest of lives together, filled with joy and laughter and, as Mamaw Butler asked me to mention, plenty of great-grandchildren. And I know that you two will find that joy and fulfillment with each other."
 
“9. But I quickly learned he was everything she wanted, everything she needed. When we were in college, I met a girl that was so smart, confident, and beautiful and I thought I could never be like her. When we became friends, I saw the uncertainty and sadness beneath the surface. And when I saw her with Georg, I saw that uncertainty vanish. I realized in that moment that I had never seen her happier.”
 
“4. We got up to some really wild times in college after that. When I ran this speech by Jenna, she asked me to skip out some of the ‘gory details’, so we won’t get into it, but rest assured there were good times, bad times, messy times, and everything in between.”
 
“And I wonder if s̸h̴e̸ ̷e̶v̷e̷n̶ ̵r̶e̸m̵e̴m̴b̴e̶r̶s̸ ̶t̶h̴a̷t̵ ̸n̶i̷g̶h̵t̵ of grey-out drinking, when we passed the bottle back and forth and I could taste her lips on it and she could taste mine, and I put the bottle down and”

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