The world had been sad these past few days, and the meadow and the depressed sky merged into one great grey scheme to meet the calm eternal flow of the babbling brook that mirrored the erect lifelessly bare trees; the enfeebled light was struggling to break through the warlock-black clouds, and our conjoined shadows were …



Loneliness has always been her only companion. There was no one around, no one to eat with— all she could do was clean her house occasionally, eat, and wash the damn dishes. Washing these dishes remind her of how sensitively delicate her hands were. She paused for a good while, with her hands holding a …

at night

I am like a three-year-old kid and he's the monster under my bed ©2016, Quiyet Brul