Published in Corruptio optimi pessima.
Published in Corruptio optimi pessima.
Published in Corruptio optimi pessima.
Image credit by Pinterest
Image credit by Pinterest
Image credit by Pinterest
Resigner here. Yes, you want to install my blog. No, I have not been idle. I have been distracted, villified, forgotten and remembered - I don't know why the holidays are called "Merry". I suspect it has something to do with spinning around in one place? Well, I'm dizzy. All this angst and anticipation has me sneaking out windows and other peculiar "activivities". 🤹🏻♀️🖤
Resigner here. Yes, you want to install my blog. No, I have not been idle. I have been distracted, villified, forgotten and remembered - I don't know why the holidays are called "Merry". I suspect it has something to do with spinning around in one place? Well, I'm dizzy. All this angst and anticipation has me sneaking out windows and other peculiar "activivities". 🤹🏻♀️🖤
Resigner here. Yes, you want to install my blog. No, I have not been idle. I have been distracted, villified, forgotten and remembered - I don't know why the holidays are called "Merry". I suspect it has something to do with spinning around in one place? Well, I'm dizzy. All this angst and anticipation has me sneaking out windows and other peculiar "activivities". 🤹🏻♀️🖤
January 14, 2022
January 14, 2022
January 14, 2022
The rarest rebellion
The rarest rebellion
The rarest rebellion
Love, live, breathe
Love, live, breathe
Love, live, breathe
The Rarest form of Rebellion.
~ being yourself, no apologies, no explanation.
For those of you with rusty memories of the Latin language:
Corruptio optimi pessimi
~ Latin proverb translated: The corruption of the best is the worst.
Silent writer
Chapter One
In a quaint town nestled between rolling hills and whispering pines, there lived a mysterious writer known only as R. She was an enigma, her true identity concealed beneath layers of ink and paper. R had a gift for weaving tales that touched the hearts of her readers, yet she guarded her personal life with utmost secrecy.
Every morning, she would retreat to her favorite corner in the local cafe, a hidden alcove where she could observe the world while remaining unnoticed. She wore a long, flowing black coat that trailed behind her like a shadow, hiding the ethereal glow of her skin that shimmered like diamonds. R's radiant presence was a well-kept secret, known only to a handful who had caught glimpses of her true nature.
Her writing captivated the town, and she reveled in the anonymity that allowed her to observe life from the shadows. The words flowed effortlessly from her pen, each story a reflection of the emotions she hid within. However, the tranquility of her existence was shattered one fateful day.
A mysterious figure named S emerged from the shadows of R's life. A supposed admirer of her work, he soon revealed a darker motive. In a cruel turn of events, he betrayed R, exposing her hidden identity and using her secrets to harm those she held dear. The tranquility of her existence crumbled as her peaceful world transformed into a battleground of emotions.
As the town buzzed with rumors, R's black coat became both her shield and her armor. She withdrew further into her mystery, crafting stories that mirrored the turmoil within her soul. Yet, the town remained oblivious to the internal struggles of their beloved writer.
With the weight of betrayal on her shoulders, she sought solace in her writing. Her tales took on a darker hue, reflecting the pain and betrayal she had endured. The diamond-like glow of her skin seemed to dim, as if the very essence of her being was affected by the shadows that had invaded her life.
Despite the torment, her resilience shone through. She continued to wear her black coat, not as a symbol of mourning, but as a statement of strength. Each word she penned became a step towards reclaiming her identity, and her stories began to resonate with a new sense of empowerment.
The mysterious writer, once hidden in the shadows, emerged from the turmoil stronger than before. The town may never know her true name, but they witnessed the transformation of a woman who turned her pain into prose, and her mystery into a source of strength. The black coat that once concealed her radiance now served as a symbol of resilience, a reminder that even in the face of betrayal, one could emerge glittering like diamonds in the sunlight.
Chapter two
Finally she found yet another tranquil town, where she remained an elusive wordsmith. With a new name, yet again cloaked in mystery, she now fully harnessed the potent alchemy of words. She spent days honing her craft in order to create narratives that stirred the very souls of her readers. Still, her true self remained shrouded behind the ink-stained curtain she wove with each eloquent stroke of her pen.
At breakfast alone, every dawn found her leaning into new knowledge, constantly digging for the truest form of prose and poetry. Draped in the sweeping black coat, she moved through the world like a phantom. She reveled in the anonymity, basking in the power that her newly forged identity afforded her.
From the ruins of betrayal, a phoenix emerged in the form of L. The black coat that once shielded her now draped her like a regal cloak, and the diamond-like skin beneath seemed to radiate with an otherworldly luminosity. In her destruction, she discovered a power that transcended the realm of mere mortals.
Her legacy followed her while the town whispered of her downfall, L harnessed the magical vibrations that coursed through her veins. The stories she penned were no longer confined to her world; they now echoed with the secrets of her enemies, transformed into a tapestry of artistry. Each stroke of her pen became a spell, weaving a narrative that mirrored the depths of her newfound strength.
L had tapped into a wellspring of resilience that flowed from the very core of her being. The words she etched onto paper were not just tales; they were incantations, transmuting the pain of betrayal into a force that fueled her artistic prowess. Her prose became a weapon, a silent yet deadly force that left an indelible mark on the collective consciousness of the town.
Her metamorphosis of a silent writer into a sorceress of words complete. L no longer hid in the shadows; she danced in the spotlight of her own creation, weaving spells that captivated the hearts and minds of those who dared cross her path.
In the alchemy of destruction and rebirth, L had unlocked the secrets of her own strength. She had become a living testament to the transformative power of resilience, turning the darkest chapters of her life into a masterpiece that resonated with the enchantment of redemption. The once elusive writer now stood as a testament to the alchemical magic that could arise from the ashes of betrayal.
Epilogue
In the aftermath of the storm, the enigmatic writer known only as L chose to embrace the mantle of anonymity with newfound purpose. Her diamond-like gaze pierced through the veils of deception, and the black coat that once concealed her became a symbol of perpetual vigilance.
Choosing to remain nameless was no longer an act of concealment but a declaration of perpetual inquiry. She became a sentinel, her senses finely attuned to discrepancies and falsehoods. Her vigilance was not born out of fear but fueled by a relentless pursuit of truth, an unyielding commitment to unravel the intricacies of the world and this life.
The once silent writer, now with her eyes wide open, navigated the currents of life with grace and precision. Her presence, like a quiet storm on the horizon, left an indelible mark on the collective consciousness of the town. Those who unknowingly traversed the landscapes of deception became characters in her narratives, unwittingly contributing to the unfolding saga of truth and revelation.
To this, the mysterious writer with no name persists, her journey an eternal dance between shadows and enlightenment. In her wake, a trail of stories lingered, a testament to the enduring strength that arises when one chooses not to be defined by a name but instead by the relentless pursuit of clarity in the intricate tapestry of existence.
⨔Fin.
- Short story Silent writer © written on 14 January written by this author and published on this day.
A little bit late, a little rusty, but never blind.
Resigner 💜
♪♪♪
Keep on reading.
(^◕.◕^)
The Rarest form of Rebellion.
~ being yourself, no apologies, no explanation.
For those of you with rusty memories of the Latin language:
Corruptio optimi pessimi
~ Latin proverb translated: The corruption of the best is the worst.
Silent writer
Chapter One
In a quaint town nestled between rolling hills and whispering pines, there lived a mysterious writer known only as R. She was an enigma, her true identity concealed beneath layers of ink and paper. R had a gift for weaving tales that touched the hearts of her readers, yet she guarded her personal life with utmost secrecy.
Every morning, she would retreat to her favorite corner in the local cafe, a hidden alcove where she could observe the world while remaining unnoticed. She wore a long, flowing black coat that trailed behind her like a shadow, hiding the ethereal glow of her skin that shimmered like diamonds. R's radiant presence was a well-kept secret, known only to a handful who had caught glimpses of her true nature.
Her writing captivated the town, and she reveled in the anonymity that allowed her to observe life from the shadows. The words flowed effortlessly from her pen, each story a reflection of the emotions she hid within. However, the tranquility of her existence was shattered one fateful day.
A mysterious figure named S emerged from the shadows of R's life. A supposed admirer of her work, he soon revealed a darker motive. In a cruel turn of events, he betrayed R, exposing her hidden identity and using her secrets to harm those she held dear. The tranquility of her existence crumbled as her peaceful world transformed into a battleground of emotions.
As the town buzzed with rumors, R's black coat became both her shield and her armor. She withdrew further into her mystery, crafting stories that mirrored the turmoil within her soul. Yet, the town remained oblivious to the internal struggles of their beloved writer.
With the weight of betrayal on her shoulders, she sought solace in her writing. Her tales took on a darker hue, reflecting the pain and betrayal she had endured. The diamond-like glow of her skin seemed to dim, as if the very essence of her being was affected by the shadows that had invaded her life.
Despite the torment, her resilience shone through. She continued to wear her black coat, not as a symbol of mourning, but as a statement of strength. Each word she penned became a step towards reclaiming her identity, and her stories began to resonate with a new sense of empowerment.
The mysterious writer, once hidden in the shadows, emerged from the turmoil stronger than before. The town may never know her true name, but they witnessed the transformation of a woman who turned her pain into prose, and her mystery into a source of strength. The black coat that once concealed her radiance now served as a symbol of resilience, a reminder that even in the face of betrayal, one could emerge glittering like diamonds in the sunlight.
Chapter two
Finally she found yet another tranquil town, where she remained an elusive wordsmith. With a new name, yet again cloaked in mystery, she now fully harnessed the potent alchemy of words. She spent days honing her craft in order to create narratives that stirred the very souls of her readers. Still, her true self remained shrouded behind the ink-stained curtain she wove with each eloquent stroke of her pen.
At breakfast alone, every dawn found her leaning into new knowledge, constantly digging for the truest form of prose and poetry. Draped in the sweeping black coat, she moved through the world like a phantom. She reveled in the anonymity, basking in the power that her newly forged identity afforded her.
From the ruins of betrayal, a phoenix emerged in the form of L. The black coat that once shielded her now draped her like a regal cloak, and the diamond-like skin beneath seemed to radiate with an otherworldly luminosity. In her destruction, she discovered a power that transcended the realm of mere mortals.
Her legacy followed her while the town whispered of her downfall, L harnessed the magical vibrations that coursed through her veins. The stories she penned were no longer confined to her world; they now echoed with the secrets of her enemies, transformed into a tapestry of artistry. Each stroke of her pen became a spell, weaving a narrative that mirrored the depths of her newfound strength.
L had tapped into a wellspring of resilience that flowed from the very core of her being. The words she etched onto paper were not just tales; they were incantations, transmuting the pain of betrayal into a force that fueled her artistic prowess. Her prose became a weapon, a silent yet deadly force that left an indelible mark on the collective consciousness of the town.
Her metamorphosis of a silent writer into a sorceress of words complete. L no longer hid in the shadows; she danced in the spotlight of her own creation, weaving spells that captivated the hearts and minds of those who dared cross her path.
In the alchemy of destruction and rebirth, L had unlocked the secrets of her own strength. She had become a living testament to the transformative power of resilience, turning the darkest chapters of her life into a masterpiece that resonated with the enchantment of redemption. The once elusive writer now stood as a testament to the alchemical magic that could arise from the ashes of betrayal.
Epilogue
In the aftermath of the storm, the enigmatic writer known only as L chose to embrace the mantle of anonymity with newfound purpose. Her diamond-like gaze pierced through the veils of deception, and the black coat that once concealed her became a symbol of perpetual vigilance.
Choosing to remain nameless was no longer an act of concealment but a declaration of perpetual inquiry. She became a sentinel, her senses finely attuned to discrepancies and falsehoods. Her vigilance was not born out of fear but fueled by a relentless pursuit of truth, an unyielding commitment to unravel the intricacies of the world and this life.
The once silent writer, now with her eyes wide open, navigated the currents of life with grace and precision. Her presence, like a quiet storm on the horizon, left an indelible mark on the collective consciousness of the town. Those who unknowingly traversed the landscapes of deception became characters in her narratives, unwittingly contributing to the unfolding saga of truth and revelation.
To this, the mysterious writer with no name persists, her journey an eternal dance between shadows and enlightenment. In her wake, a trail of stories lingered, a testament to the enduring strength that arises when one chooses not to be defined by a name but instead by the relentless pursuit of clarity in the intricate tapestry of existence.
⨔Fin.
- Short story Silent writer © written on 14 January written by this author and published on this day.
A little bit late, a little rusty, but never blind.
Resigner 💜
♪♪♪
Keep on reading.
(^◕.◕^)
The Rarest form of Rebellion.
~ being yourself, no apologies, no explanation.
For those of you with rusty memories of the Latin language:
Corruptio optimi pessimi
~ Latin proverb translated: The corruption of the best is the worst.
Silent writer
Chapter One
In a quaint town nestled between rolling hills and whispering pines, there lived a mysterious writer known only as R. She was an enigma, her true identity concealed beneath layers of ink and paper. R had a gift for weaving tales that touched the hearts of her readers, yet she guarded her personal life with utmost secrecy.
Every morning, she would retreat to her favorite corner in the local cafe, a hidden alcove where she could observe the world while remaining unnoticed. She wore a long, flowing black coat that trailed behind her like a shadow, hiding the ethereal glow of her skin that shimmered like diamonds. R's radiant presence was a well-kept secret, known only to a handful who had caught glimpses of her true nature.
Her writing captivated the town, and she reveled in the anonymity that allowed her to observe life from the shadows. The words flowed effortlessly from her pen, each story a reflection of the emotions she hid within. However, the tranquility of her existence was shattered one fateful day.
A mysterious figure named S emerged from the shadows of R's life. A supposed admirer of her work, he soon revealed a darker motive. In a cruel turn of events, he betrayed R, exposing her hidden identity and using her secrets to harm those she held dear. The tranquility of her existence crumbled as her peaceful world transformed into a battleground of emotions.
As the town buzzed with rumors, R's black coat became both her shield and her armor. She withdrew further into her mystery, crafting stories that mirrored the turmoil within her soul. Yet, the town remained oblivious to the internal struggles of their beloved writer.
With the weight of betrayal on her shoulders, she sought solace in her writing. Her tales took on a darker hue, reflecting the pain and betrayal she had endured. The diamond-like glow of her skin seemed to dim, as if the very essence of her being was affected by the shadows that had invaded her life.
Despite the torment, her resilience shone through. She continued to wear her black coat, not as a symbol of mourning, but as a statement of strength. Each word she penned became a step towards reclaiming her identity, and her stories began to resonate with a new sense of empowerment.
The mysterious writer, once hidden in the shadows, emerged from the turmoil stronger than before. The town may never know her true name, but they witnessed the transformation of a woman who turned her pain into prose, and her mystery into a source of strength. The black coat that once concealed her radiance now served as a symbol of resilience, a reminder that even in the face of betrayal, one could emerge glittering like diamonds in the sunlight.
Chapter two
Finally she found yet another tranquil town, where she remained an elusive wordsmith. With a new name, yet again cloaked in mystery, she now fully harnessed the potent alchemy of words. She spent days honing her craft in order to create narratives that stirred the very souls of her readers. Still, her true self remained shrouded behind the ink-stained curtain she wove with each eloquent stroke of her pen.
At breakfast alone, every dawn found her leaning into new knowledge, constantly digging for the truest form of prose and poetry. Draped in the sweeping black coat, she moved through the world like a phantom. She reveled in the anonymity, basking in the power that her newly forged identity afforded her.
From the ruins of betrayal, a phoenix emerged in the form of L. The black coat that once shielded her now draped her like a regal cloak, and the diamond-like skin beneath seemed to radiate with an otherworldly luminosity. In her destruction, she discovered a power that transcended the realm of mere mortals.
Her legacy followed her while the town whispered of her downfall, L harnessed the magical vibrations that coursed through her veins. The stories she penned were no longer confined to her world; they now echoed with the secrets of her enemies, transformed into a tapestry of artistry. Each stroke of her pen became a spell, weaving a narrative that mirrored the depths of her newfound strength.
L had tapped into a wellspring of resilience that flowed from the very core of her being. The words she etched onto paper were not just tales; they were incantations, transmuting the pain of betrayal into a force that fueled her artistic prowess. Her prose became a weapon, a silent yet deadly force that left an indelible mark on the collective consciousness of the town.
Her metamorphosis of a silent writer into a sorceress of words complete. L no longer hid in the shadows; she danced in the spotlight of her own creation, weaving spells that captivated the hearts and minds of those who dared cross her path.
In the alchemy of destruction and rebirth, L had unlocked the secrets of her own strength. She had become a living testament to the transformative power of resilience, turning the darkest chapters of her life into a masterpiece that resonated with the enchantment of redemption. The once elusive writer now stood as a testament to the alchemical magic that could arise from the ashes of betrayal.
Epilogue
In the aftermath of the storm, the enigmatic writer known only as L chose to embrace the mantle of anonymity with newfound purpose. Her diamond-like gaze pierced through the veils of deception, and the black coat that once concealed her became a symbol of perpetual vigilance.
Choosing to remain nameless was no longer an act of concealment but a declaration of perpetual inquiry. She became a sentinel, her senses finely attuned to discrepancies and falsehoods. Her vigilance was not born out of fear but fueled by a relentless pursuit of truth, an unyielding commitment to unravel the intricacies of the world and this life.
The once silent writer, now with her eyes wide open, navigated the currents of life with grace and precision. Her presence, like a quiet storm on the horizon, left an indelible mark on the collective consciousness of the town. Those who unknowingly traversed the landscapes of deception became characters in her narratives, unwittingly contributing to the unfolding saga of truth and revelation.
To this, the mysterious writer with no name persists, her journey an eternal dance between shadows and enlightenment. In her wake, a trail of stories lingered, a testament to the enduring strength that arises when one chooses not to be defined by a name but instead by the relentless pursuit of clarity in the intricate tapestry of existence.
⨔Fin.
- Short story Silent writer © written on 14 January written by this author and published on this day.
A little bit late, a little rusty, but never blind.
Resigner 💜
♪♪♪
Keep on reading.
(^◕.◕^)
