CasualWanderer82

Dear @Craigy every once in a while, a reader writes something that encapsulates what I write and why I write it. Your comment is such an instance. Sure, my stories may seem at times to dance on the edge of realism. Specially with this story I wanted it to feel like a fairytale of sorts. A dream. But the characters emotions are very real, and on a human level relatable to everyone. Thank YOU for reading and for allowing yourself to dive into these journeys with me. Trust me, I got your back. P.S. Funny coincidence, a friend artist/illustrator recently asked me to adapt one of my earlier stories. Let's see if something comes of that. Who knows, maybe we'll have the opportunity to see that happen with more of my stories in the future.

Such a beautiful comment @Cane23 thank you. We're supposed to feel conflicted about Bishop's choices, as much as he does. He's flawed, as we all are. Pawn is back. And I for one, missed him. And I'm eager to give him ALL my attention and love! 😉

We had to take this journey with him in order to understand where he was at this point in the story. There's healing to be done now.

Oh, Pawn is ready. Trust.

The car thundered along the desolate coastal road, its engine protesting under the exhilarating strain as Tanner drove it to the edge of adrenaline. His knuckles clutched the steering wheel, pale against the darkness of his mask, a mere shadow of the rage that simmered beneath. River sat tense and alert in the passenger seat, his mask perfectly concealing his anxiety as his eyes flicked nervously between the winding road and the turmoil erupting in the back seat. Omar was hunched over Andre

Always the sweetest @Cane23 and yes, Bishop is such a stud!

I went to a military school @pvtguy and, well...I could write a whole story on that. 😜

Omar stood up, his silhouette bathed in soft shades of cerulean as moonlight filtered through the attic's skylight. He drifted across to the small table by his bed, where a vintage vinyl record player sat, its needle still, waiting. Andrew watched him, captivated as Omar crouched by the old player, handling it like something precious, almost sacred. "I found these in the closet a few years ago," Omar murmured, his voice low and distant, as though speaking more to himself than Andrew. A

It's an absolutely honor to have you follow me on these (sometimes lighter, sometimes heavier) journeys @Musclejunky

Takes a seasoned reader to appreciate the balance between the beauty but also the pain. Thank you for always being so kind @Danners with the words you share.

Hmm...interesting. 🤔😉

Thank you @Cane23 and yes, the pieces are really just metaphors for how the characters behave and move inside the story. King/Omar is a complex character, powerful yet caged inside the challenging confines of his own mind. By now we already know he didn't survive...but his shadow is still very much a prominent figure inside this "game".

Dear @pvtguy having been through something similar myself, your words touch me deeply. Thank for taking the time to share them. They mean a lot!

(Louisiana, New Orleans, 33 years earlier) A boy with rich brown eyes and a tousle of dark hair meandered through his backyard, his fingers tightly gripping a freshly folded paper plane. He examined it closely, tracing the whimsical doodles he had sketched across its pale wings with pencil, a treasure from his imagination. Taking a deep breath, he stepped back, and with a swift motion, he launched the plane into the sky. For a moment, it soared gracefully, dancing on the breeze as if it wer

I think Bishop feels amputated. Pawn is a lifeline, but he can't see that. Not at the moment. He might need to see things in a different perspective...