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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 17/07/2024

A bird sits at my window. He was there yesterday. He’ll be there tomorrow. I hope. He sings soft when I’m sad. He grins wide when I’m glad. Our neighbors lay traps to snap rat necks. They snap birds, too. Mine, he’s lucky. He’s been lucky. He’ll be lucky. I hope. I hope. #vss #writer

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 14/04/2024

The risk you run, hunting monsters: sometimes they’re sweet. I met him in the trestles. He tended birds up there—flocked with them, flew at night. He asked me along. I’d never hung to a beast I wasn’t trying to kill. His fur, so soft; his snout, so warm; his heart, so 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥. #vss #amwriting

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 11/07/2025

This morning they found three more holes. Smashed headstones, same as. Also same, none remember what those read. Vicar held prayer midday. Rain. Dozen showed. Some left flowers. Will speak with him this evening, see what he’ll tell a worried soul. Darker clouds come. Rough winds. Love, A.

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 01/01/2025

A crowd. A man in their middle. He’s tied to a post. Bruised. Bloody. They turn to you. “You a fag, too?” A second rope waits. You step up. You swing. You hit him. Again. You hit. Again! Hit. Harder. Hit! Harder! His face rips. Your knuckles drip. Your life depends on it. #vss

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 25/12/2024

Into my prayers, God spoke. “It is mine. He took it. You will take it back.” So I sought my teachers, their elders, the One on High. They each told the same: it is what God says. I still pray and God still speaks—ever, ever, ever the same. Is this all we have left? #vss #writer #microfiction

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 12/12/2024

“How long’s she have?” “A year. Two. I cannot tell, true.” “Will we know, when it comes?” “She shall feel kinship of the bones below.” Anna bit her lip, pinched her eyes, squeezed tears. Then, “We’ll make it a good year.” “Or two.” “Yea,” she tried a grin, “or two.” #vss #writer #amwriting

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 12/12/2024

I called a demon. He did what I bid. And before the Hells retook him, I shared him a pastry. He came again next night to beg my recipe. I gave, gladly—but he was demonic, and my last ingredient: love. The night after, he brought me his batch. They were perfect. #vss #writer #microfiction

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 26/10/2024

I knelt on the hill. He sat at my side. “There’s a lot of ‘em.” He nodded. “Ever seen so many?” He shook. “Think we can take ‘em?” Shook harder. “Me neither.” He put a paw in his saddlebag. Crust of bread, skin of wine. “A sorry last supper.” He nodded. We ate. #vss #writer #amwriting #microfic

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 22/12/2023

The broods fled down, down, down, and there swore their return. Now, ages-molten from the deep heats, they remember so little else. Our winds crack their bodies, still their hearts—no more the kind skies they still dream. We must have ruined it. They must smelt the fix. #vss #writer #amwriting

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 28/11/2023

Some of them are criminals. But most of them are victims! So we must keep them all monitored, all restrained. For their own good! Because any one of them could be criminal. And at the slightest sign, whatever it might be, we must be ready—we must be there!—to take them down. #vss #writer

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 04/11/2023

The air was cool, the sky was blue, the sand was gold below. It was my first time up so high. It all flew by so fast. There were blocks ahead, houses. Then streets. Then people. Then him. I didn’t want to hit my target. He looked like such a nice boy. #vss

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 09/11/2023

Papa stepped out to see. They shot him. Mama screamed. They shot her. Sis ran. Shot. Bro cried. Shot. I lived because I hid. So I kept hiding. We made weapons. We made bombs. We hurt them back. Then they came, shot me, my wife. But our girl, we taught her to hide. #vss #writer

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 20/07/2024

At morn, the beast lay at the foot of our wall. One of the men slung down his spear. It struck scales, it split in twain. He begged another. That shattered, too. Night, now. The beast paces—snarls—just out of our torchlight. The men don’t sleep. I can’t. We’ll not wake. #vss #writer #fic

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 17/07/2024

There’s monsters in our library. There’s beasts in these books. Dreadful, wondrous—waiting, wanting for you to turn the page and let them loose. They roar, they whisper: terrible truths, lovely lies, songs never sung, secrets so simple they cannot be seen. Come. Sit. Read. #vss #writer #fic

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 18/07/2024

“This way, madness,” screams the scrawl, etched in stone and steel, “This way, glory. This way, death.” Sane men turn. Sane men run. Sane men never look back. I am not sane, and I am not man. #vss #writer #amwriting #microfiction

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 19/06/2024

I grew up on the right side of the tracks. Sure, everyone called it wrong—but all those clean kids from big houses that didn’t go past the end of their block or out at night? They didn’t see the bodies. They never thought that could be them. They didn’t know when to run. #vss #writer #amwriting

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 08/06/2024

To the old gods, blood. To the new sire, song. Dance, boys! Strike your spears, beat your beaks! Teach them terror, deal them death! And when all is done—sleep, boys, sleep. Your sons will sing your honor and glory, that these bones you leave be never forgotten. #vss #writer #amwriting #microfic

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 03/12/2023

Our gods are dead. We still pray, but only monsters hear. Men of Order slay knowings of these, that ignorance spread in its stead. They do this for fear, and rightly so: if ‘twas known these monsters listen—they answer!—we would make of them new and monstrous gods. #vss #writer #men&monsters

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 01/06/2024

Did lotsa running for Mr. MacAllen. Always he had something coming or going, or coming and going. Even going and coming! Those were the hardest. But I’m good at running. And jumping. And climbing! And squeezing in hidey-holes all over the roofs. #vss #writer #amwriting #microfiction

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 02/12/2023

“Do naught if you wish, but men come for them still. She stands with her kith. They will fight and they will die. Then that death will come for you, and—fight or flee—you will fall alone. So stand here, fight here! Die at her side! Die in her arms!” #vss #writer #men&monsters

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 02/12/2023

“The nestlin’-men call we all feder, but they grins wider when is me. I’s their Feder. I’s 𝘩𝘦𝘳 Feder.” She went quieter. “But now they’s bigger and says it diff’rent, like they’s spittin’. So I’s Fred now. Anna grins wider when she says. Is better name.” #vss #writer #men&monsters

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 04/12/2023

They call him wretched. Why? In every telling of the tales, ‘twas his fate to perish for the saving of all. Yet he strode from that storm of smoke and blood, and between his palms beat the heart of the world. This he kept, duly won; and for that, too, he was despised. #vss #writer #vssmagic

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 18/05/2024

We put the knife in. She screamed. He screamed. But it had to be done, for all our sakes. Tonight, I hear screams again. No. They wouldn’t dare. Not her, not mine. The door is locked. No, no. At the cracks, I see fire, smell it. No, no, no! Not her! 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳! #vss #writer #microfiction

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 17/05/2024

Once ‘round the pen, twice the barn, then home. They’d done it so many times—dusk didn't make it hard, even in high crops. But brother didn’t come back out. They called him. Then went in to look. The screams woke Mother. Hers, Father. He got his gun. It wasn’t enough. #vss #writer #story

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 07/01/2024

This night is shining. You are alone and the wind is cold. Your head turns. Your ear flicks. That howl is me, you cannot see. You run. I chase. Branches, twigs, snow, ice. A slip. A tumble. A hillside, down. You hit bottom; red steams up. I smell it. I know. It is a mercy. #vss #poetry #writer

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 28/11/2023

He was large, loud, strong—no one dared cross him. She was slight, silent—barely worth seeing. It was over in barely a breath, and she was gone into the crowd before they even saw him fall. #vss #writer #vssmagic

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 06/12/2023

“They cannot abide things their greaters. So they made you to kill us all. And now you have. I regret that I shall not see what they make to kill you.” #vss #writer

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 27/11/2023

By moon’s light they broke the city. Walls cracked, gates fell. Sword and spear ran the streets—fire followed their wake. A thousand-thousand prayed, a thousand-thousand perished. Faith enough, blood enough. That night, a god was born. That night, a demon was made. #vss #writer

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 29/11/2023

Their journey was long, their road fraught with beast and brigand. One by one they fell so the rest might make it in time. Yet at the end, naught greeted them but charcoal and rot. Those left living swore vengeance, but there would be none—this was not a hero’s world. #vss #writer

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 07/12/2023

When speech is crime, only criminals will speak. What will we tell your starving ears, in whispers and gasps where no-one else can hear? #vss #writer

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 04/05/2024

“Found you.” You hadn’t, but I wasn’t going to argue. “C’mere.” No. “It’s not fun if you don’t play fair.” Fuck fair. “I’m not asking again.” And I’m not making one peep. #vss #writer #amwriting #microfic #microfiction #story

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 29/04/2024

Be my sword, young man. Be my sword, old boy. Come, sit, rest at my hip. Ride at my side. Lay on my lap. Bear my hands, my calloused grip—when it is weary, when it is hard. Be my sword, that I may fall on you. Be my sword, that I may cut the black. #vss #writer #amwriting #microfic #microfiction

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 06/01/2024

"My mother told me: true love isn't looking at each other, but looking the same way together.” He giggled, "Why not both? The view from back here's awfully nice." #vss #writer #amwriting #writingcommunity

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 23/11/2023

One unit did the work of a hundred men. Costs sank, prices fell, profits soared. Nobody could compete. That was our best year. That was our last year. Competition—slaughtered. Labor—replaced. Market—unemployed. Nobody could afford our product. #vss #writer

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 23/04/2024

I dig. I must. I strike the earth, I split it, I heave it up. It cracks, it crumbles, it spills aside. I strike again. Again. Again! “He’s not here,” she sobs, she sways, “He’s not here, he’s not here.” Of course he isn’t. Why would he be? Still I dig, to be certain. #vss #writingcommunity

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 23/04/2024

She held to her chest that little caged flame. A pinch of powder—she cast it in, flared her light green. Then it was all burnt up. If the feathers’d seen, they’d know her. If they’d not, or the men had-? Her hands shook, her throat, her lips, “Fred, be here. Please.” #vss #writer #men&monsters

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 12/12/2023

I knew a place called Worthy, which wasn’t; there, a girl—Hope—who couldn’t. She called me Chase. Dusty streets, rusty doors; they ate our heels, our hands. I stayed one night, two, then three: each dawn, vacant as the last. A lazy, buzzing death. We stole new names and ran. #vss #writer

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 13/12/2023

The world hates you. They beg your blood. You run. You hide. They seek. They find. You have but the breath of your breast, the beat of your heart. Live for that. Kill for that! They brand you demon. Be that demon. Be fearsome. Be free. #vss #writer

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 26/11/2023

She reached her end amid the unspoiled snow of dawning Christmas Eve. There would be no funeral: her friends had long passed, and of family only two remained—destitute as she. A few strangers might recall her face and maybe her name, but not many and not for long. #vss #writer #vss365

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 20/04/2024

What am I but a babe flailing in the night? These things I pretend to know, figments of an almost-mind clutching threadbare thought. Hubris—yes?—to think I might master what, after so many years of trying, I have barely begun to grasp. Fool, fool. #vss #writer #amwriting #writingcommunity

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 22/12/2023

What if it is madness that makes me? What if your cure solves all that I am? What if these tears and regrets, these furies and pains are all that make me grip my hammer so? And if my swings strike true for a thousand fears of failing—take them from me, and what is left? #vss #writer #amwriting

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 05/12/2023

It sang of wealth and fame and splendor. It sang of new beginnings and glorious ends. It sang triumph eternal, renown and fear, butchery, sacrifice, blood and carrion and carving the world. A song, so sweet; a song, so true. His lips danced. His feet, his hands. His knife. #vss #writer

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 19/04/2024

The water is rising. It laps at my toes. The water is rising. I should run, I should climb. The water is rising. But these cliffs are so steep. The water is rising. I could slip, I could fall. The water is rising. I’ll die faster, trying. The water is rising. But it’s not here just yet. #vss #poetry

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 25/11/2023

It was a nice song, reminded me of home. I closed my eyes, smelled scents I’d forgotten I still remembered, saw places and faces that weren’t anywhere, anymore. All felt right again, whole again. I hummed along, and for just that breath our world wasn’t ending. #vss #writer

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 24/11/2023

Born not guiltless to this sun, from womb I heard the call. For all their pleas they were run through, their bodies cold did fall. My mother birthed me on the road, to black and terror’d night. I never learned to read or speak, but only how to fight. #vss #writer

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 21/11/2023

Trim and trimmed, a spring to his manner, a clap to his step—the sort who drew attention like flies to the larder. On his hip: Kindly, My Lady. At his breast: Softly, My Dear. Life was passion and blood. One day it would end him. But until then, he would 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭. #vss #writer

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 12/11/2023

He’d named it before, ‘the long sleep.’ I didn’t understand, until I found him cold by the creek. He was too heavy, so I covered him in flowers. They hid the rot. I brought more, and sat and whispered to what of him was left. Every day, for a year. Then, he bloomed. #vss #writer #vss365

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 18/03/2024

I sobbed, I begged—mercy, peace! They did not listen, they did not heed; they raised their spears and shut their ears against my monstrous voice. So I cast away what I had been and bare what I am now become. My deeds are monstrous as my words, and every one is understood. #vss #writer #amwriting

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 11/11/2023

He came apart; didn’t break, but 𝘴𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘵. All his skin, all his flesh; like fingers, like threads. They unspooled at me, tangled and tied everything in their way—chairs, table, door. I slammed that shut, but still he came: filling the cracks, the walls, the air. Then, me. #vss #writer

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ABadChoiceOfWords @abadchoiceofwords.bsky.social · 17/03/2024

Most posts are exercises in detail and depth in restraint. But how about where the limitation is time instead of length? So here: three twenty-minute stretches, three little moments, three steps along the same road. #vss #writer #amwriting #writingcommunity #flashfiction

“Wrong.”
“Wrong?”
“Wrong! This is wrong, you’re wrong, I’m wrong. Everything’s wrong!”
“Alright. How should things be?”
“We shouldn’t be here. None of this should be here! It’s, it’s-!”
“It’s alright, you’re alright.”
“No, no—so small, too small! Why, why, why are we this small?”

The hills. I remembered them, knew them, better than my own… my own-?
Every crest, every dip; ruby sun, emerald grass, sapphire waves. They called me, welcomed me, led me on.
But I didn't know—didn't remember—what sat at their feet, what lay beneath.
Why did I dig?
Earth gave way to deepest hollow: bright, despite the lack of light. I squeezed myself through and in and under. So vast! No mere cave, more even than cavern; I did not have words grand enough. It filled my sight, my mind, my soul. I was so small, still. Yet this seeing and knowing, it stole my smallness from me. I let that go, giddy. This place, this vast, was more me than me!
The others, they had told me I was wrong. They had told me I was mad! I was not wrong, I was not mad. I was lost, and now I would be found.

They told me, once: wind above, earth below, flame between. Who were they? I do not remember, nor if I ever knew.
I do know I was not made for this—nobody has been, or ever will be. The lands scream at my touch; the winds, the light. So I move by night. It is quieter.
He did not see me coming; he only barely heard. His mouth pulled wide, but made no noise more than his land.
I made that screaming stop. "This is right. I am right. You will be made right."
He still scratched and bit. But at the end, though his eyes wept, he gave his nod to me.
I took it. I took him. Beneath the silvered moon, beneath the black and howling wind, I took what lay before me and made it as it should be.

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