It is spring, and the night wind is moist with the smell of turned loam and the early flowers; the moon pours out its beauty which you see as beauty finally, warm and offering everything. You have only to take.
Margaret Atwood ╱ Spring Poem.
Following
Sign up to join the largest storytelling community
or
deerdusk
Jun 20, 2026 04:45PM
hey …. ☺️ i know it’s been a while and i’m sorry, but i do wanna let y’all know that the first chapter is pretty much done lol. i’m just in the process of tweaking and editing it, but i’ll definitely...View all Conversations
Story by deerdusk
Doomsday ✷ Original Fic.
Doomsday is close at hand, I'll book the marching band.
───────
...