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Mariso Soup

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2019

Stories
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742 Followers
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4 Stories

1127 karma pts

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This Living Grave

Content Warning: Contains claustrophobic imagery, intense psychological distress, and unsettling bodily descriptions. This skin I wear… it clings to me. A wretched thing. It scowls, yet tightens its grip- like a blanket left to mildew in the rain, steeped in stains no water could lift. I catch my reflection as I pass the stacked shops. My eyes gape like gutted windows, carcasses of themselves- frames where something used to look back. Not human exactly, but something with a sliver of pride, a flicker of warmth. Something I can’t seem to find...

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Wolves in Silk

"You're not tying them right," Marta muttered, crouching beside Lina in the shadow of an overflowing laundry cart. The younger girl's fingers trembled around the laces of her boots- boots that weren't hers, boots stolen from a drunken guest's closet three nights ago. "Tighter. Like this." Marta grabbed the silk-tipped laces and cinched them in one sharp pull, knotting them just above the ankle. "If they come loose while you're running, you're dead." Above them, the estate hummed with the pre-hunt gala. Crystal laughter dripped through the ai...

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The Garden of Unturned Faces

The shears paused in mid-air, blades half-parted around a stray peony stem. His hands- browned by seasons of earth and sun- stilled, though his pulse did not. Silk whispered against dew-damp grass behind him, a sound as unmistakable as birdsong. He didn't turn. Couldn't. The weight of her presence settled between his shoulder blades like sunlight made solid. Her skirts pooled like spilled cream around the wrought-iron bench, its curved legs sinking slightly into the soft earth beneath the willow’s swaying curtain. She never chose the marble ...

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Roots Beneath Rubble

October 12th, 1940Found a hole in the fence today. Not just any hole- one of those gaps that doesn’t look like much until you’re already halfway through. Wasn’t even supposed to be out this way, but the patrol route got shifted after last night’s raid, and now here I am, staring at a garden that shouldn’t exist. Not just a garden. A whole greenhouse. Glass panels cracked, and inside- plants. Real ones. October 14thWent back. Couldn’t help it. Saw her this time- woman in a mud-streaked coat, kneeling in the dirt like she was arguing with it. ...

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