Theartofdeception Stories

"Why do you like poems?" He genuinely asked, a question that he has yearned to hear the answer. He looked at her that not even words could define nor describe...

Oh spread your now healed wings and fly make a strong gust of wind that could make the dandelions that bloomed fly away. Till then, When May Comes.

"The strands of illusion were tightly woven, a dangerous web that ensnared the unwary." Myra, a relentless reporter, was drawn into this beguiling trap, woven...

The world is far from my outstretched hands but my universe is made up of every atom and molecule Every working organs Every joints, muscles and bones Every strand of ha...