A field of playful flowers, a scent of a sacred earth, a cycle of dawn and dusk. — You meandered through the countryside’s fields, keeping your eyes lazily peeled for what you’ve been searching for throughout the stroll you’ve begun. Birds chirped through the early morning, their songs harmonising and bringing a calm smile to your face. Butterflies flapped their colourful wings near you, almost bringing you to…

A torrent of twisted, tantalising, tormenting thoughts sank its fangs into its prey, as sharp as the pointiest blades of pastime warriors. — These blinding, unbearably provoking thoughts ate away at their victim’s flesh, feasting on their vulnerable fears and their deepest, darkest memories they futilely attempted to keep concealed within the hollow confinement of their minds. But alas, they did not stand a chance.

“When the moon tells you something, believe it.” — DreamWorks Animation — She did not need music to dance. Underneath the moonlight, in an outstretched open field, there she was, spinning in graceful circles, without any source of music to encourage her movements. Her heart gave all of it to her. It gave her the melody to dance to, and she did…

The words you write are immortal — Stories will live on forever. Anything you’ve written may be read by someone in eighty years, and as they flip through the aged, yellowing pages of your once pristine notebook into which you’ve poured all your victories and failures, joys and sorrows, love and resentment, laughs and cries, triumphs and…

Painting a portrait in words — His hair was a thick, wild, frenzy of black waves colliding against one another and forming heaps and mountains to stand tall on top of his head. It concealed the majority of his smooth forehead, only revealing part of it that left the rest to mystery. And that was the…

Every origami creature crafted, is a tiny soul secretly breathing within. — Olivia was gifted with a power so mythically magical, which naturally, she had to protect from prying eyes. She knew if her secret got exposed to the public, it would no longer feel unique as it does now, and she wouldn’t feel as though it was solely hers to enjoy…

Sealed Sparrow, have you had enough of your captivity? — Sealed Sparrow, Do you recall almost being shot by an arrow, How you have dodged it by a space so narrow? Yet you have fallen to the ground, Wounded and engulfed by a deafening sound, Forcing you to submit in defeat. For your predator knows not of fairness, And victoriously…

You are the trigger of joy in not only children, but fiction-driven adults like myself as well. — Your reputation precedes you, Jack Frost. You are quite the celebrity among children, who later grow up and tell their own children about you. Your unique role, among other fiction staples, is bringing snow days every winter and sparking joy among children who eagerly run outside with their gloves, ice…

I am Willow the wasp, and I demand that my woes be heard by you all. Contented as I may be with my simple, tiresome life, I still can’t help but feel wistful of what could have been. I am a wasp, and as you may already know, my kind’s reputation precedes us. In every waking moment, I feel a strong longing to be perceived differently…