Another story from your's truly.
This one is a little bit stranger than my previous pieces and can best be described as surreal horror. If you like strange little horror stories, please give it a read.
it's simply fucking magic to me that there is an arts and crafts masterpiece in a soaked lonely field in the usk valley. yes, yes craft & simplicity & medievalism but this is stuff is sort of radical & proto-modern. it's sgraffito which is a technique of carving back layers of coloured plaster completed in 1888. wig flexing stuff
"oh, but normal society will shun you!!!" i'm trans. "you'll be forced to consort with your own beastly kind!!" yeah, i'm trans. "everyone will age around you as you remain timelessly frozen in youth!" already do. hormones whip ass. "you can't go out in the day!" i've had worse sleep schedules. "you'll turn into a murderous horror!" do you KNOW how many shitheads in the greater Western Washington area deserve to get exsanguinated, because I could make a list
Writer, Classics Nerd, and Fig goddess.
Boosts are always welcome.
I write shit sometimes:
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