Tiny Story 06.18.2026

Damia drank her maca root tea and stared out her window.

The steel and glass landscape made her long for her childhood

Where fairies danced in the meadows and birds sang from willow trees.

The local beach was always full of surfers in their finest shades of green wetsuits and pink hair.

On Sundays the mermaids would sing the sun back after the storms.

The sun beams would glisten and shine every monday morning.

The local businesses would signal the openings with a carol of bells.

Damia let out a sigh, her memories nothing but a wistful reflection.

One day she would return to slow mornings and soft days,

but right now she had a king to kill.

Word Ticket Prompts:

Recent Posts