The realm of faerie-story is wide and deep and high and filled with many things: all manner of beasts and birds are found there; shoreless seas and stars uncounted; beauty that is an enchantment, and an ever-present peril; both joy and sorrow as sharp as swords.
~ J.R.R. Tolkien
Why do we read stories? Why do we fall in love with fictional characters living only in the pages of a book? It is because of the power of words. They make us feel, they can change our minds, transport us to different worlds, and give light to that which has remained obscured by the dark for so long.
By putting words together in the proper way, a writer can create something sensational. Worlds flow out of the ink, flooding across the pages until entire civilizations and realms appear out of nothing but the flickers of imaginations. Brilliant phantasms are born from visions in our heads. Characters grow from the cracks of our memory into fully-formed people with personalities and backstories and hardships, until that character seems as real as you and I. What was literally nothing before suddenly becomes something.
Words are the gateway to understanding.
Words are the bridges to new worlds.
Words are the causeway to the impossible.
This is where we will share with you our words, our worlds. We welcome you to come to this page to read what we create: short stories, flash fiction, poetry and prose, and perhaps even an ongoing series or two. Feel free to comment your thoughts, and enjoy!
Welcome to our imaginations!
Danielle O’Shay
In the Darkling Night - Stars pricked the darkening sky in silver shimmers of light, and in the spaces between the trees a descended a gentle darkness, hushing the voices of the day to make way for the whispers of the night. And what a night it was! Never was there a clearer sky to walk beneath, never was there … 
Smell of Home - The new town smelled of home, or as he always imagined home should.
The Crowded Sky - They say the castle is haunted. That when the north wind dies, you could hear the moaning of some poor lost soul. That in the dark halls and crevices, when you hold your breath, you can feel a ghostly touch creep up your arm, full of sadness and desperation. Her loneliness seeps into you.
Sojourner - A quick write of a synopsis of a possible future book. Someday, perhaps, it will be written. We walked on the moon in 1969. We walked on mars in 2025. We discovered light-speed travel in 2052. By 2070 we were exploring planets outside our galaxy and creating new civilizations. By 2080 we had created the perfect … 
Character Study: Friendship - Hope slammed her door with a well-placed kick, before dumping her keys on her entryway table. Unhooking the latches on her heels she flung them off her feet with little care as they sailed into some unknown part of her house. She blinked her eyes hazily, feeling exhaustion weighing down heavily on her bones. Bending … 
A Letter to Planet Earth - This is written as a response to my last post, “A Letter to Mankind.” It is inspired by the #ExtinctionEndsHere and #EndTheTrade petition, a worldwide movement to call on the world’s governments to permanently end the commercial trade and sale in markets of wild terrestrial animals for consumption. You can sign here at this link. Wildlife conservation and … 
The Silence - Whenever a voice rose he could not help but flinch. Such sounds went straight to his heart, suffocated him, overwhelmed him…paralyzed him. He lay under his bed, his mother’s words a piercing blade in his ear, his father’s shout a sharp crack against his skull. When silence ultimately fell, he would hum quietly to himself, … 
A Letter to Mankind - Something I’ve wanted to write for many years, and this felt like the right time. Inspired by Sea Legacy and Paul Nicklen’s video Extinction Ends Here. Dear Mankind, We have come to a great era of history, my friends, and you are to be congratulated on your perseverance. Since the creation of the world—since time itself … 
The Sylvan Lady - Before the moon grew old with age The world lay locked in iron cage; Kept tight within the borders deep Of woods where dark things walk and creep, And silence layed upon the pools And starlight gleamed like flaming jewels Upon the gloomy mushroom’d loam Within the heart of mossy foam. 
The Fall of Math - Math’s death was a loss, the man had been a brilliant warrior, a talented strategist and generous host, now he would belong to nothing more then the ground and the words of the bards.
Space Giants - There are legends of far-flung planets suspended at the edge of all that we know, hovering in the wide expanse of space and lit by the luminesce of trillions of ancient stars. These skies are filled with a tapestry of diamonds, flung brilliantly across the heavens over empty, silent planets. Planets where mankind has not … 
A Gallimaufry of Words - In my nearly nineteen years of existence I have come to fall deeply in love with the intricacies, the simplicities, the depth, and the beauty of words. I survive on them. I collect them, I organize them, I keep lists of them in my notebooks, and often I rearrange them into patterns that create worlds … 
Which Way Might I Turn? - He stood at a break in the road. The rocky, muddied path split from one to four, so that he stood in the middle of a crossroads with one stretching to the right, one to the left, and two more before and behind him. Above hung the sky, and the sun, and the clouds, and … 
Soul-Seekers - Short (long?) story excerpt/brief outline I’m working on. In Sir Alistair Gavell’s Book of Told and Untold Secrets, souls are described as being, and I quote, ‘…the patterns to unique quiddities which have been left behind—lost, as it were, to the infinite and unkind hands of indomitable time. They are pieces of existence, the unfinished … 
Cabinet of Curiosities - I grew up in New England, in an old-style farmhouse built sometime in the late 30s. It was a fairly average house in most respects, settled down a country lane lined with aspens, birches, and ancient apple orchards, with fields and white fences beyond and the sea some distance away, blue on the horizon. The … 
Courtesy - She waddled, hands placed on her lower back on either side of her spine trying to relive some pressure. Her huge belly jutted out in front of her, her belly button visible beneath the stretched fabric. Her feet were killing her and the bus wasn’t due for thirty more minutes. Being pregnant was not conducive … 
A Beryl-Painted Sea - Commodore Sawyer Walsh HMS Verity 19 August, 1815 15:30 — Dark clouds spotted at 14:00 on the eastern horizon, most likely an early winter storm. At the present there is no reason for concern, though I cannot help but feel it. It is the height of the season and the air has been … 
The Naturalist - There is color in his eyes, echoing there; jay-bird blue and stormy-water grey, deep mossy silver and yellow like autumn leaves, sometimes brilliant green and curly white. He sees nature as a blueprint for life, and bones as the written history of what used to be. Brown laces the lines of his palms and fingertips, … 
The Corporate - For a prompt I first asked myself what my version of Utopia was then I asked myself what dystopia would look like to me: The cement sidewalk is cracked and dirty, millions of feet tramp down on its surface, everyone is crowded together. Everyone is in a rush heading somewhere just as bleak and grey … 
A Library in the Woods - For a prompt, I asked myself what would be my version of Utopia: Scraggly roots break up the ground, there trees growing tall and strong. Their branches bend under the weight of thick green leaves, the sun filtering through, creating a dapple of light upon the dirt floor. Between these trees are large bookcases, though … 
The Ghosts of Ballimere Bog - It can be said that nearly every old village in Ireland is well-equipped with a quality ghost story or two, or perhaps three or four in some cases. Most are the quintessentially sinister legends of revenge and death, such as the legend of Thomas Ó’Baoghill, whose ghost roams the stony fields of Kilkennery, ever in … 
Nebular - Deep within the realm of the stars lies a beast. He is an ancient being, crafted from the darkness that was the face of the deep, before man became man and the earth and sky were without form. When the light came, separating night from day and the light from the dark, that is when … 
Avoiding the Issue - “We need to talk.” Olivia made the decision to pedal harder, words like those always lead to unpleasantness, and Olivia as a matter of course always avoided unpleasantness. “What?” she shouted over her shoulder, hair wiping into her eyes, pretending not to have heard. “We need to talk.” He repeated, voice louder, tone a mixture … 
There is a Forest - There is a forest, lying hidden in the shadows of the world in a place where time does not exist. It does not have a name, though it is rumored to have once been called the ‘Mist Wood’, after legends of faerie mist-gates and border regions, places where the Fair Folk could tread back and … 
Character Sketch: Moon-Princess - She told me she lived on the moon. “It is the most beautiful planet in the galaxy,” she said. “It’s all washed in soft silver light and surrounded by darkness on all sides. There is no sound, no voices. It’s so quiet you can her the stars singing. They sing to the world. It’s empty … 
First Contact - People were so frightened, they hadn’t known what to do. What do you do when you learn Aliens are real? They acted badly, they made mistakes, and as a repercussion, all friendly relations were severed. They hadn’t known they wanted to be friends, their language was beyond their understanding. They assumed the words were a … 
Earth - (From last year. Not my favorite, but it was enjoyable to write.) Set apart from millions a world crafted of eons stretching into eternity, a single spark among infinity. Glittering in the deep this waking world never sleeps. Ever-dreaming, ever-living, around a sun ever-burning. A planet filled with smoke and scars, listen, listen to the … 
Home of the Giants - Based off a recent expedition to Norway, where I spent time in Jotunheimen (which literally means ‘home of the giants’ in Norwegian) and I was inspired to write something about the endlessness of that place. I know why it is named what it is. Far beyond the dusty hills of Gjendesheim, beyond the endless shores of the Northern Sea, there lies … 
Dreamer - Oh dreamer, the world wants to see your soul. Your burning heart, your tangled ideas, your iridescent hope, and sharp-as-blade sorrows. The world needs them.
Halfway Between - A bit of randomness I wrote from the prompt of ‘one room’. Everything exploded in a kaleidoscope of red and orange, and the next thing I knew I was standing in a completely white room with no doors or windows, and I hadn’t the slightest idea how I got there.
Tower on the Shore - Across the pallid grey of dusky dim that lays upon the shattered seas; beyond the skyline’s golden rim that scintillates the western breeze, there lays a hidden, lonely shore long left to ancient myth and lore. A silent coast, a desolate strand an unremembered sylvan land. 
Sketch of the Highlands: Book Excerpt - It was a land of stone and heather, of misty moors and rocky slopes lost to the archives of indomitable time. 
Collage - A warm hand brushes against my forehead, a tongue clucks at the too warm temperature. My hair is smoothed from my clammy skin, a gentle pressure tucks my blankets around me.
To Touch the Edge - How far we reach, stretching our wings to the sky, testing the limits of impossibility. Diving deeper and deeper into the farthest recesses of the cosmos.
I Brought You the Moon - When you were sad and the world seemed without hope, I offered you a handful of stars freshly picked from the fields of the sky. You put them in a glass bottle and displayed them on the windowsill
The Flying Gang - The infamous captain Edward Thatch, more commonly known by his illustrative pseudonym ‘Blackbeard’, stood on the rolling deck of the Mary Celeste in the proud stance of one who clearly knew he was being regarded with complete and utter awe, not to mention fear.
The Honey Bee - Buzzing, fluttering, darting Moving as separate entities Of one united whole.
Joined at the Authorship 