A Letter From A Work of Fiction #1
Creative Narratives Spun by Captivating Minds
Welcome to the first letter from A Work of Fiction. A Work of Fiction is a fiction publication brought to you by Assemblage that focuses on creative narratives spun by captivating minds. And we have begun to build a community of spellbinders.
To start, these letters will go out every other week, on Saturday afternoon, and will highlight most, if not all our published stories. Thank you for being some of the first voyagers on this journey.
Here are some of the top words spilled onto the screen for you since we opened up shop:
“Ty sighs and looks out into the darkening woods along the road. The closer his brother takes him, in that death-trap, to his childhood home, the darker the sky grows.”
“Now the fog lifted entirely and the warrior could see an old temple surrounded by beautiful gardens and trickling fountains. An elderly man with a long wispy beard as on the front steps. The warrior drew his bow and aimed steadily at the man.”
“This was all quite dramatic, of course, but the nagging feeling was real. The worst, perhaps, was the feeling that should this happen, this odd un-making, it might go unnoticed. It would be a melding of a wave back into the great green sea, with not so much as a trace that she had ever been there at all.”
“I saw a native woman with braided hair collect in silence from the mixed bone pile. She stuck what she could into her bag as if collecting sticks of wood for a fire. She kept the calm of an elder oak tree in a raging spring storm. Is this what Mama meant when she said nature is a woman?”
“My eyes sting and I don’t need a mirror to see the red lines that connect my pupils to me. I am awake, but awash in vacant memories. I am trying so hard to think of something, anything. But all I get is…nothing.”
Other Stories Curated by Medium
“Murphy repeated the details sarcastically, “A root-cellar, inside their house, that connected to the clouds? No wonder that society collapsed. It sounds like they just did things simply because they could be done.”
“It had always been this way in Sara’s little village. Some traditions say the beauty-eaters demanded this odd sort of appeasement ritual from the villagers. Other traditions say the village had always held a full-moon festival where they’d create art, crafts, and write poetry in celebration of the earth’s rhythm. Then the beauty-eaters showed up one night, scared everyone off, and started eating everything.”
“Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; Truth isn’t.”
— Mark Twain
If you are a fiction writer interested in writing for A Work of Fiction, please review the submission requirements.