Scribe Stories

a slave to the mindset.

David Anwar Robinson Quillen always felt disconnected from his life, almost as if he were living someone else's. Then came the book, and with it's release, the mediocre hustler turned meteoric literary star would soon find out just how accurate his quiet delusions were. Suddenly with every passing moment, the feeling of being just a step off the pace, finding clues to the grand illusion like bread crumbs seconds after they were left to be found intensifies. Encounters and miraculous happenings the writer once chalked up to coincidence take the shape of omen and other worldly intuition. Exhausted from chasing the ghost of a woman who's face he remembered but voice long since forgotten, at age 44 he had bottomed out. Lost his last job for the last time. Despite it's vivid nature, his ever active imagination could have never dreamt up the wild shit he would soon find himself eyebrow deep in. The decision to say "fuck it" give ear to the voices and pick up his pen, unlocks a door to a life he had always felt lurking behind the scenes in the very back of his being. Eyes wide open to the realities of unfathomable and limitless power, the author is catapulted into a quest to discover who he truly is and has been all along. But there's danger, thick and crimson coating the walls of the drastically narrowing hallway that his life is becoming. As ancient cabals and secret societies harken to prophecy foretelling of such an awakening. Has a new combatant, maybe the most powerful yet, charged purposefully behind the curtain into the shadows their clandestine theater of a war? Or will another name be added to the legend of those who came before and were consumed by it's age old fires. A seismic shift in the balance of universal power lies within the answers of one man's search for purpose. After all has been written, his story could either reinforce or redefine the razor edged difference between the pendulums swing and the guillotine's surgical fall.

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This is a simple story about a scribe. But what he writes about-that's for you to decide. Come read, and co-author your own meaning. So, is it truly a simple story after all? That's for you to decide.

Finally getting a start on her life; twenty-four-year-old Renee Warren decides by a chance to move to the small town of Grievance Manor. Everything is going great she has a decent townhouse, new found freedom, and a cozy little cafe called Sweeties with delicious food. It would all be perfect if it wasn't for the constant voices that plagued her every time she comes near the little bookstore around the corner. Finally saying enough is enough, she marches in to see what could possibly be causing them. When she is dragged into a realm of ancient law keeping along with the very interesting and very attractive DeLeon brothers, could she have been asking for too much? *Not Edited

Tales of the Realm's Birth and the Pillars That Hold It High In a world scarred by hatred and divided by bloodlines, a dream was born on a hidden island-one where difference was not a curse, but a strength. This is the story of how Noctiluna rose from the ashes of old wars to become a beacon of hope for all peoples. From the moment Valeria and Therius first set foot on its shores to forge a home for the outcast and the brave, to Luvectus Dracxon's ascension as its first crowned Lunarch, every page reveals the making of a realm built on unity.

Quotes of students in my creative writing class taken out of context. Beware, tinder sheep is on the prowl. [I'll give context to those who ask nicely]

In a world built for the sighted, blind individuals face countless challenges that often go unnoticed. From crossing busy streets to accessing education or employment opportunities, the everyday lives of visually impaired people are filled with hurdles. However, with awareness, empathy, and support from initiatives like The Scribe Bank, we can help create a more inclusive society.

Welcome to a tale revealing an inspirational journey from beginnings of a mundane, dead-end existence to the political global hotspot of a country preparing for war against the US and it's allies and then on to a modern day quest for love, ultimately found in a most unlikely part of the world. Along the way are thoughts, observations and emotions mixed in with quizzical short stories, pop poetry, jottings, snip-bits, enthralling images and an underlying bent towards finding the lighter side of all things which pop up in the course of events. However, an undertone transcends the entire publication of never, ever give up. Enjoy the stimulation...

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"Grand Sage Alhaitham!" Alhaitham turned around slowly and replied, "What?" The scholar, either dumb and imperceptive or uncaring, pressed on and continued to annoy Alhaitham. Alhaitham guessed the latter, as the former wasn't likely, considering the fact that he worked for the Akademiya. But then again, given Azar's previous hiring policies, it wouldn't exactly surprise Alhaitham if the scholar had barely passed his thesis statement. "About the funding for Spantamad, the ley lines have been acting up recently, so could you approve-" "My working hours are listed outside my office," Alhaitham interrupted tersely. "Contact me then." "But Grand Sage-" "Acting Grand Sage Alhaitham. My position is nothing else if temporary. If you wish to raise a complaint about my working hours, please take it up with Lesser Lord Kusanali. She can be found in the Sanctuary of Surasthana." Alhaitham turned back around and walked away swiftly, hand in pocket, ready to pull out his keys, when the scholar suddenly grabbed his arm. OR Alhaitham navigates his relationships with his fellow Akademiya alumni as he works hard as the Acting Grand Sage and attempts to heal from the past trauma of his childhood. ⚠️I do not own Alhaitham, Kaveh, or any of the characters that appear in this work. Credit goes to MiHoYo. ⚠️ Thank you for reaching the end of this long description! If you plan on trying this work out, enjoy!

"How can you be scared of darkness when dark is what you are always in?"

A collection of short stories.