Time is instilled
Drip’s like water
Life is a sip, lone quenched postmortem
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from Jad Pinnone and writers in Poets and other communities.
In a past life, I was a Venetian merchant during the Renaissance. My name was Alessandro, and my soul possessed a deep longing for exploration and a knack for trade. I embraced the vibrant city of Venice as my home, a bustling hub of commerce and culture that fueled my ambitions.
By Jad Pinnone3 years ago in History
Television crackles. Static fills the muted space. I can’t tear my gaze from those turquoise eyes. Innocent eyes. Eyes like mine.
By Amanda Abela6 days ago in Poets
Do Angels Walk Amongst Us All I have wondered this more than once, not in a loud way, not in questions spoken out, but in quiet moments
By George’s Girl 2026 6 days ago in Poets
1. Extraction - remove yourself from all sources of conflict; the birthplace of curses. A week before your eighteenth birthday, your mother will sit you down and tell you not to panic, “there’s something you need to know—”
By Lauren Everdell4 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.