Welcome to Tiny Worlds!
We’re shifting our focus to explore Mexico's eastern coast with twelve-year-old George Perez in the serialized novel: ISLA.
For longer fiction visit Stories, and for flash fiction go to Sketchbook.
I gasped—only water, fish-gulps, desperate for air.
The light shimmered around me, a starfield
rippling just out of reach.
I swam toward it.
Massive stones rose around me, tiered like a temple, stretching endlessly below.
I kicked off one, heels splitting. The pressure built. My chest cinched tight.
The glyph was there—carved into the highest stone.
I remembered the feel.
Now I needed it again.
More than breath.
Hands broke through the storm, reaching from between the stones, clutching at my legs.
I thrashed, trying to twist free.
My hands strained toward the her.
It glowed faintly—etched leaves, a twisted face,
a woman’s hand outstretched,
a star lifting from her palm.
I reached—just once more—
without touching it, pressing
and the dark closed over everything.
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Catching up on Isla - this is the chapter I picked up. I was not expecting this! Super curious to see where this goes.
Not sure what this is in the story series, but I like it. Is it something George is dreaming? A vision? Or maybe peyote is involved...? You got me going.