River and Celia in Underland
Bio
Mad-hap shenanigans, scrawlings, art and stuff ;)
Poetry Collection, Is this All We Get?
Achievements (26)
Stories (183)
Filter by community
Elaine. Honorable Mention in Leave the Light On Challenge. Top Story - July 2025.
The kettle hissed long before she remembered to pour it. The sound had always comforted her. It was unconventional people used to say. Technology had moved on. But she had liked the ordinariness of the steam pouring upward into the air. It slowed down the process. Made tea a ritual. It had become part of their routine. But tonight, she barely registered the familiar noise. It just didn’t belong in the silence of the night. Felt out of place somehow. She set down the cups, placing them lightly on mismatched saucers. The clink of porcelain refocused her for a moment. Breathe.
By River and Celia in Underland 9 months ago in Fiction
We Didn’t Win.This Was Not a Win.
When I wrote The Thing She Carried, I didn’t write it to win. I wrote it because we couldn’t look away. Because Bisan’s voice, still crackling defiantly through the noise, haunted us. Because we were tired of watching genocide unfold in real time while the world debates semantics. Tired of seeing the west turn inward and pretend they didn’t see.
By River and Celia in Underland 9 months ago in Humans
Hymen. Winner in The Shape of the Thing Challenge.
They called it The Final Mercy. The books said it rose from the churning blue waters after the Great Flood. It rose up into the air with all the majesty of the humpback whale. The waves subsided and land formed once again. An island twenty-three kilometres wide, thirty-four long. The great Gententia Strip. The promised land. The Fishbone Crown of Mercy had stood on its own pedestal at the centre. Burnished wood a phoenix to a people that would not be subdued. The chosen.
By River and Celia in Underland 9 months ago in Fiction
The Garden. Runner-Up in Everything Looks Better From Far Away Challenge.
The roses have returned. Pink and white, they sway gently when the breeze picks up. Perfectly still when it stops, as if bowing to the sun. As if breathing in the life they have been given. Oblivious to what lies beneath their tangled roots.
By River and Celia in Underland 9 months ago in Fiction
