Profile cover photo
Profile photo
Arthur Wingsmith
6 followers -
A semi-fictional, ghost written entitity
A semi-fictional, ghost written entitity

6 followers
About
Arthur Wingsmith's posts

Post is pinned.Post has attachment

Post has shared content
A hunter’s super moon. Strange to see one here. Mamma Universe was sure that it had been full sunshine only a moment ago. Was it a moment ago? Had there been the blaze and heat of a star in the sky, or had it always been the cold, reflected light of that…

Post has shared content
The orchard was syrupy with perfume. An exotic, sweet smell, that seemed as though it had turned the atmosphere viscous. In not too long, the blossoms would fall, and transform the air to a multichromatic wash of spent flowers. If Mamma Universe was not…

Post has shared content
And the Gardener spoke thus: There is a power in stories, so long as they are written by the right kind of soul. Having a soul is easy, and requires exactly no kind of work. It’s like being born attractive or smart. There’s no…

Post has shared content
“Bees? You’re going to use bees?” Mamma Universe stared at The Gardener in disbelief. The woman was obviously crazy. “Well, not just bees. There’s a complex interplay of conditions. The story, and its writer, are important too.” “That would make a change…

Post has shared content
The music washed over her. Not in waves, but in deep, blue water swells. And Mamma Universe danced. She’d had no idea of the pleasure in rhythmic movement – hadn’t expected it; had never known what it was to truly dance before her extinction. If she had…

Post has shared content
Adjustments, within limits, are always possible. Certain conditions must be met, and there are few locations from which changes can be made, but with the right tools and knowledge the fabric of the universe can be warped. Any alteration is only temporary,…

Post has shared content
“Are you sure that this information is correct?” Ajax looked up from the scroll he had been examining, and gave Persephone a doubtful look. “Emph,” said Persephone, through a mouthful of pastry. “I’m sorry?” Persephone swallowed, brushed crumbs from her…

Post has attachment

Post has shared content
The Hounds of Fate gusted southerly. Down from the equator, towards the Tropic of Capricorn, they hunted and scavenged. They kissed exposed shorelines, and devoured small islands with warm, pleasant breath. Once they reached the tropic, one of two things…
Wait while more posts are being loaded