Letters to letters


Art&concept by Ol Albireo

Feel free to write your stories and name arts.

You also can do not only write, but draw, sing, create music and sculptures, translate into other languages you learn for practicing (and never simplify text when you translate it!). Show us that you did.

“Beautiful,” Lance nodded, sitting down on the ground with his legs folded in Turkish.

In the black inferno, a pillar of fire rose to the sky, and on the flame, as on a canvas, letters began to appear.

The skin itched. Lance grimaced in annoyance.

“Don’t, please, huh?” he asked dejectedly, still having time to finish, and the fiery inscription darted towards him, burning his skin.

Lance screamed habitually, knowing that he couldn’t lose consciousness, that nothing would work, just wait. Wait until the new hellish knowledge enters him and tells him where to go next, whom to save, what to correct.

“Why doesn’t this fucking Doctor Who really exist? Why can’t he do all this?- Lance whined, sometimes trying to wipe away tears, – or why can’t I at least find knowledge of where to find an anesthetic of some kind? I don’t need to write anything! My eyes are popping out of pain, I can’t read anything!”

He barked at the Book, which responded with inscriptions on his skin.

Lance again! AlbireoMKG

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