Steve's Daily Blah.

What shall endure in the dance of fate? Even the pain? Through the decades, a silent witness, even some pain. In the tapestry of time, a story unfolds, so plain, A love transcending, a tale to sustain, a tale with no pain. Moonlit whispers and the stars' gleam, a sweet refrain, A song of hearts, an eternal dream, spare me all pain. In the garden of memories, where emotions wane, A love that lingers, a nostalgic terrain, even slight pain. Oh, poet, weave the words in a poetic skein, In the poem of life, let love regain, don’t bother with pain. What will suffice for a true-love knot? Even in rain? Through every storm, our hearts remain, even in rain. Much more of my stuff available at  https://dailyprompt.page.link/X1qUyE2jz2gCFkzv5 Or see my book:  https://www.amazon.co.uk/Tall-Tales-At-Bus-Stop-ebook/dp/B0B135RB4D/ref=sr_1_1?crid=3TGEU7HM5LEKT&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.qR5g4YN8X07Isx3scRia7Ky1T06Wa16Wv8RPTZPVWmE.i4Nl12KZvWpS64bNLKk7PdE7r2WvoI8tsiTkFSJoMYQ&dib_tag=se&keyword...

 Ella and Max met at a weekend retreat focused on unplugging and finding inner peace, whatever that means. You used to be able to just go away for a bit of peace and quiet, but nowadays it’s all for ‘inner calm’ or ‘mindfulness’ or ‘wellbeing’ or ‘inner healing with the aid of the power of crystals’.It’s as if you can’t take a break unless it’s for some spiritual psycho-babble bollocks. That being said, both were there looking for something. Neither knew what exactly, answers, maybe, or, more likely  just a break from the humdrum grinding routine of being an adult in the modern world. It used to be so much more simple. Life was either go out and spear a wildebeest or gather some berries. Not anymore. Ella’s life was a round of deep chats in fancy coffee shops and a hectic life as a PR twonk. Max was what he called ‘a tech guy’ Basically he sold tech stuff and he had a love, a passion, for tech and gadgets. Anyway, here they both were at this retreat. It wasn't exactly what eit...

Chorewood, a sleepy place nestled between monotonous hills and mundane valleys. And in the midst of this unimaginative banality lived Forbes Pritchard, a man who found himself at that time in his life where events tended towards him settling down, even though he was of the mind that he was not at all ready to settle down. He chafed against the binding forces that life stealthily applied but had, nevertheless, recently acquired an old house on Crooked Lane, a peculiar place, what with its warped timbers and crooked chimney. A more ’settling down’ sort of place would be hard to imagine. Forbes could not seem to sort out in his own mind exactly what he wanted, which was probably not that surprising. Forbes had moved to Chorewood to make a new start in life. He’d intended to move on from a dreadful marriage that ended three years before when his now ex-wife had tried to murder him in his sleep by bashing him over the head with an iron skillet. She’d fractured his skull and he’d nearly di...

 Amidst the vast expanse of the Aroxis solar system, in the chilling silence that was the void, there was a strident level of activity as a vast fleet of be-weaponed and armoured starships prepared for battle. Brigades and fleets, assembled from the disparate factions living on the three different habitable planets of Aroxis, converging in the inky abyss between planets, their intent clear: total domination or annihilation. Coruscating bursts of directed energy erupted as the first shots were fired, illuminating the space with deadly brilliance as beams of destruction streaked across the cosmic battleground, striking targets of opportunity with deadly effect and each burst pealing away shields, draining the defensive energies of their targets but none yet penetrating through as far as the all too vulnerable hulls. Dreadnoughts, colossal and foreboding, loomed like ancient titans, unleashing torrents of devastation upon their adversaries, carving through the fabric of space itself. ...