The Postcard's Promise

As Harland dug through the ruins, he found a hidden and weathered desk. On it, an old postcard displayed a faded, scenic landscape. Flipping it over, he read delicate handwritten words:

"Dear Wanderer,

May this postcard be your journey's memento, reminding you of wonders witnessed and truths sought. Let it inspire your quest for knowledge and enlightenment. With each step, the world and you transform. Embrace the magic within, letting it guide your path. Uncover the mysteries. Remember, great adventures start unexpectedly.

Safe travels,

A fellow explorer."

Harland cherished the postcard as a symbol of inspiration and continued his exploration.

From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster

Vines

Amidst the barrenness of their surroundings, they found refuge in each other's arms. Though the winds howled and rained down upon them, they held on tight, refusing to let go. Together, they weathered the storm, their love growing stronger with each passing moment. And as the skies cleared and the sun shone, they knew they had found something special—a love that could withstand anything. Their hearts began to beat as one, like two vines interwoven, awaking a long-forgotten garden. It was as if fate had brought them together—two lost souls searching for a way out of the darkness.

From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster

Fifteen Minutes

After a lifetime of deception, a sense of purposelessness persisted. Trapped in darkness, Sarah faced tests, time lost all meaning, hunger gnawed, and survival was vital. Guilt spiraled into self-blame. A presence loomed, with fear gripping her. A hidden cave, a reward, reality slipping, and power and control are beckoning. Uncertainty and choices lead to dark paths. Sarah complied, fearing the unknown. Urgency and the cave's depths awaited. A dangerous allure, dread mounting. Unease, an invisible stalker, the crunch of footsteps. The weight of a gaze, fear, and defiance entwined.

"I'm not here to make friends, I'm here to win!"

From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster

Sentinels

With the heavens above, eyes perceive blackness below. The silhouettes of lonesome silos dotting a barren landscape gives way to perceptions of ancient obsidian obelisks, sentinels erected by the offspring of some long-forgotten civilization, sating deities of seasons past.

Against a moonless night, one can appreciate the unencumbered band of the Milky Way, glorious gold and white light from hundreds of thousands of stars, blues, oranges and reds, sparkling beacons of potentialities adorning the night sky.

I repose beneath a blanket of starlight, and the encircling melody of coywolves lulls me to sleep as I long for dreams of you.

From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster

Scarlett And Phineas: A Love Story

Scarlett looks away. "I will pray for your soul, Phineas."

Phineas smiles. "The trees pray for me every day when I walk past them. The vines, the grass, every creature around pray for our souls when we are dead."

"I pray you will fall to the ground, decompose and be used as fertilizer, causing the land to flourish. And since you are an honorable and chivalrous man, you may even be the savior of the many creatures, some of which you love dearly."

"Thank you, Scarlett. I can only pray for your death similarly. It's the least I can do."

From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster

Songs Of Memory

Mother Spider began to sing, and a harmony of words awoke the web of memories. I searched for that moment of allure in those endless dark trees when she first spoke. There were so many expressions on my tongue, but I couldn't remember them all.

"How do you know all that?"

She whispered, "How do I know anything?"

Her words became my words, rising and falling, flickering and weaving as she sang.

I learned everything from Mother Spider, as did all the other spiders who heard her voice long before the flood of darkness fell and created those endless woods.

From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster

Dreams In Green

Standing here on this frigid night, I look out over a frozen landscape, and I can't help but wonder why?. There is still hope. Maybe one day, this land will come back to life, the trees will grow, the water will flow, and the air will smell fresh and clean.

I can still feel the excitement coursing through me, the sense of wonder at seeing something so beautiful. The land of ice and snow holds a strange sort of magic.

But the land is not dead. It's only sleeping, waiting for inspiration or something green to grow the days away.

From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster

That Night

The sky looked heavy as darkening clouds pressed hard against the planet's surface. The two dominant elements fought. It was like an unstable ballet.

"Are you going to fight with me?"

Sam shook his head. "We're not fighting."

He wanted to return to that night in the garden with Lily.

Lightning illuminated the clouds, shattering the heavens, spilling its hot sparks in whirlpools that burst into thunder. Sam's heart pounded fast.

"It can't end here," Lilith cried.

Sam knew what was coming.

"Hey guys," Adam waves. "Beautiful night."

Thunder crashed.

Samael bowed his head crying as the real thunderstorm began.

From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster

Giant Oaks

I sighed as my breathing slowed. The sun rose over my head, and I felt the power inside me waking, like the tree in the woods that had grown into giant oaks, covering the forest floor in the summer. I would sit in the shade of those trees until nightfall, waiting for the stars, reaching for the promise of sleep. The light in the sky became a distant memory, and I could almost feel the joy that the moon brought to those born in the middle of winter or during those spring showers that brought new life to the earth.

From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster

Strange Creatures

There is only one road from here to there, cutting through the hills of rolling greens with the occasional grove of trees breaking up the monotony. Soon, this too will be gone, in its place, parking lots and strip malls, housing offices that employ free thinkers selling ethically sourced products from other once beautiful patches of green.

As my electric car reaches the zenith of these rolling hills, I spot the strange creatures spinning hundreds of feet in the air.

We reminisce.

"Remember how beautiful that stretch of land was?"

"Where?"

"You know, that boring stretch between there and here."

From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster