Snail Stories

some weird stories because I can

don't read this it will get you mad if your a Gramer person. ALSO PS I AM NOT TRYING TO WRITE.

(2025 DISCLAIMER: This poem cover was AI generated for this. I did that when AI was just picking up, and I wasn't aware it AI was bad to use. I did, however right this...) A cute little character development based on my betta fish, Spunky and his lil tank mate, Ranbit the rabbit snail! Most stories are made up while I write about these two- but the characters are very much alive.

Constructive poetry: a new genre of poetry that uses insubstantial nuggets of writing as the seeds to grow more robust and lush wordscapes, and a collaborative opportunity in which the Wattpad community can lend a hand in propagating this garden of beauty. Did you ever read an inspirational quote and think, "That's not all that deep, let alone inspirational," or a platitude and find, "This doesn't speak to me," or a poem that made you wonder, "That's an interesting idea, but could it be fleshed out more?" If so, and you would like to see the potential of such incomplete or underdeveloped pieces of writing realized, these constructive poems might satisfy that curiosity. These poems strive to take trite, unpolished, disappointing, and just outright bad writing, and through some added effort, nuance, and a little verbosity, transform them into something greater. The poems that will make up this collection are all inspired by cliched expressions, uninspired instapoetry, failed aphorisms and other instances of terse writing in need of a makeover. You may think of this "Constructive Poetry" as the antithesis of so-called "blackout poetry," insofar as, rather than erasing what is ugly to make something more beautiful, the goal is to improve impoverished writing through upbuilding, through fine-tuning and embellishing, through constructive criticism baked into a failure's own remix. The fuel for these poems comes in the form of crude writing, of which I am not aware of all instances. Submit a particular piece of writing you find particularly lacking (source cited, please) and I will with the best effort of my green fingers weave a poem that dignifies the diamond in that rough.

This story is about the love story of a Water Bottle and a snail. ❤ Based on a true story ❤

Seventeen-year-old Calla Thorne arrives in the coastal town of Meridian Bay carrying two things: a cassette tape of her mother singing the same song seventeen different ways, and a curse that lets her predict when people are going to die. After her mother's suicide-which Calla predicted but couldn't prevent-she takes a bus to Meridian Bay, a coastal town where fog rolls in like forgotten memories and cats gather in patterns that seem too deliberate to be coincidence. She rents a room from Mrs. Chen, who makes jasmine tea and asks no questions about the weight Calla carries. The local library becomes her refuge, where she meets River, a librarian who understands that some people are born to see things others cannot. Thomas, the lighthouse keeper, shepherds the dying toward peaceful endings. Like Calla, he carries a gift that feels more like a curse. The snails that appear after each death leave silver trails in spirals, as if writing messages in a language neither of them can read. But something else moves through Meridian Bay, something that feeds on shock and unexpected endings. It has been watching Thomas, growing hungry as he transforms chaotic deaths into gentle transitions. Now it has noticed Calla. The entity calls to her through dreams of a place called the Mirror Coast, where all unheeded warnings go to echo. There, her predictions would finally be believed. There, she could save everyone she's ever tried to warn. But some gifts aren't meant to bring comfort. Some truths exist not to be believed, but simply to be spoken into a world that needs preparing for what's coming, whether it wants to listen or not. When Calla must choose between the Mirror Coast and the real world, she discovers that the loneliest burden becomes lighter when shared with others who understand that seeing clearly is both gift and responsibility. A story about prophecy, community, and learning that home isn't where you're understood-it's where you're needed.