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Stu Are

Elves Are Sleeping Beauties

I like text to speech so I'm giving a shot at present tense second person writing to lean into a listener's POV. Enjoy! I use Sonia en-GB for the narrator at 1.5 times speed. Probably read this though, kind of left it out the story by making it the synopsis by accident. lol Tavern doors never close on the festive dockside. Traders, settlers, wanderers, and outlaws gather, drawn by the excitement of the New World. The air smells of smoke, salt and sweat, sails catch wind beside steam locomotives' whistles and pistons, each vessel either arriving with strange goods and stranger tales or departing with the thunderous farewells. You step aboard one of them, another spirited adventurer in the crowd, and spend months at sea from docks to coasts, continents to isles, to steam across a windless sea under an endless night sky. When sunlight hits your deck once more, it reveals the New World's waters, like pouring paint into the void. You see the distant sails in the harbour of a forested continent and cheer with the exclamations of waking passengers upon seeing the continent, name pending (fr), no sovereigns and no laws. The landing of all those visiting from the Old World, a boiling pot of all kinds of cultures with each person's distinct flavours of friends, enemies, grudges and dreams. Without hesitation you leave it behind and vanish into the forest, wanting simply to dedicate your life to exploring the interior of the continent. How surprising is it when you found that the elves are all sleeping beauties! Capture them all! Hahahahahahahaha!
lostatlas · 5.3K Views

Where Are My Emotions!

Fatima finally looked up, her expression hardened. "I do not condole failure. A Child of Mine must be the first, or nothing else." How is it a failure, Fatima? Bernard voice was incredulous. A child coming out third in a competition that more than twenty students participated in, and you call it a failure?! He looked at his wife with a mix of frustration and disbelief, then gaze drift to the wall, as if he could see Maisie through the plaster and paint. How can she be so slow? Fatima hissed, her words laced with venom that made Bernard flinched. Incompetent, dull and ulterly useless! Her hands clenched in a tight fist. That is how she got her son killed, Bernard. The accusation hung in the air, thick and pressing, the use of his name a chilling indication of her volatile state. "No Fatima". "Don't you dare". Bernard raised his voice shouting at Fatima. His face drained of colour. The initial disbelief in his eyes morphed into a stark horror. His eyes widened, and his mouth fell slightly open, unable to comprehend what he had just heard. His usual passive demeanor vanished replaced by a stark pained rigidity. He leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Fatima, a desperate plea forming in his eyes. She didn't kill him, Fatima. It was a mistake, a terrible accident. She was just a child. You can't keep blaming her for that. His voice was low strained, each word a careful step on fragile ground. Fatima's chest heaved, her breath coming in ragging gasp. If she hadn't gone to carry him that day... Her voice broke, sobs escaping her lips... my child will still be alive. Fatima, No....
IGBUNU_AuroraGlows · 11.4K Views
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