Valerie spread the blanket over the grassy field. She arranged the snack, lit up the candles and lay on the ground while listening to Alec’s favorite songs. She fell asleep holding a bouquet of flowers in her hand. She has been busy these past few months and she can definitely fall asleep in an instant.
The Old Nanan Bridge
There are lots of mysteries surrounding the old Nanan Bridge in The Philippines. The road is pitch-black at night. The street lights don’t seem to function in that area. The homeowners tried to fix the problem and change the lamps over and over, but the lights just flicker and would eventually turn off. The locals gave up afterwards and left the place as it is when one of the repairmen got electrocuted and died.
The High Elves
Eyes of amethyst
tell me what the future holds
Soft-spoken beings
warm my heart and bless my soul
You, who keep the secret scroll
© Pancake Bunnykins
A Tanka from The Enchanted Forest
The Enchanted Forest
The Enchanted Forest is one of the kingdoms in the Sphere located in a realm parallel to the planet Earth.
Only a few humans are able to enter the domain through the light of the full moon. When the first light of the moon touches the Hoyrawn, a ground sacred to the High Elves, a portal would open and would take those fortunate souls to the abyss of the unknown.
The Moagals are human-like creatures that live in the dry parts of the
Yellow Ribbons
Randy waited seven years for this day. He will be released from prison for a crime that he didn’t commit. He will start a new life and be with his wife and his now six-year-old daughter.
Randy was a former driver of a yellow tractor in Old McDonald’s Farm. He would take tourists for a tractor ride around the farm to meet the different animals and to see the transcendent view of the countryside. The business was going so well, until one day, the owner, Mr. McDonald was robbed and
The Orchard
Cameron Moore became an orphan at the age of 6. Both his parents died when their house was accidentally burned down three years ago. A family BBQ dinner gone wrong. The social workers couldn’t locate any close relatives because his family was not registered in the region, The Moores were illegal residents.
The Perfume
Tomorrow is the 80th birthday of Lolo Melchor, Gemma’s grandfather. The whole family planned to have a big party for him. They ordered 6 gallons of ice cream, a two-layered cake and other desserts which will be delivered the next day. The venue was set and decorated with colorful balloons and a banner that wrote: Happy Birthday Lolo Melchor.
Things I do when I don’t write
There was once a time when I would write many beautiful things about life just by staring at the evening sky, the moon, and the dancing stars. With every word, every sentence, I can feel the moon’s energy flowing through me, inspiring me to write. Yes, the moon is my muse.
The Swing
There is a girl in a lovely pink dress,
Seems too small for her, but she wears it nevertheless.
She sits on the swing and looks at the sky,
A smile on her face as she sings a lullaby.
The girl had her hair tied in a pink ribbon,
But she doesn’t seem to play with any of the children.
She sits on the swing, goes back and forth,
Scraping the ground using her foot.
The girl on the swing, she’s always there once a year,
Swinging up and down, every 10th of September.
Her hair tied in a pink ribbon, wearing the lovely pink dress,
That even if its too small, she wears nevertheless.
I sat on the swing a day before the 10th,
And saw that the ground had seemed to ascend,
Under my feet was a gravestone that paved,
To the girl in a little pink dress’ grave.
© Pancake Bunnykins
The End
Love… intentionally ignored.
Heart shattered to pieces.
Wrists too fragile for this suffering.
Blood dripping on the floor like red ribbons.
Useless. Worthless.
Pain… intentionally returned.
Breaking every piece of me and I can not go back.
I will stop crying myself to sleep.
My pillows had been drowned by my tears for a long time now.
It’s time to end this.
I will close my heart.
I will leave it like this until…
Until, it stops beating.
© Pancake Bunnykins
