Togo F

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2024

Stories (4)

4 Stories

91 karma pts

?

“Elder Lion” by Togo F

Submitted to Contest #256

Perspiration lay thick over my brow, dripping and drooling on my burly body, succumbing to the damp despair as the seconds ticked by, tilting tirelessly to the rhythm of the night. Perceptive and intuitive, I observed my opponent, a lanky animal with quickness to match, dipping, peeking , and baiting with false openings. The universe uttered its lullaby, predetermined moves, strings strung on a straw doll, unfolding before my very eyes. I could see the blood vessels beneath his moon-kissed skin, read his brain as if it were naked, perceiving...

1 comment 1
Read story

“Pearlescent Peril” by Togo F

Submitted to Contest #255

Trigger Warning: This story contains graphic depictions of self-harm, suicide, and intense emotional distress.The knife ripped the skin above Alise’s wrist, pulling it apart like the stretched strings of a violin, one by one, string by string, paving a road for the cascading crimson rivers to pour down and drown the sanguine room out of its misery.Her contralto voice parched, vocal cords torn and eyes dried.The snow-like tiles stained in red and dampened with salt surrounded her, from the cold floor to the sordid walls, enclosing the petite ...

0 comments 0
Read story

“A Nomad's Dance ” by Togo F

Submitted to Contest #254

The gypsies played their hip-throbbing tunes on this fine evening, hired by the groom out of respect for his elders. No wedding is complete without Romani music, they thought, as the fast-paced rhythms mixed with raki cajoled the younglings into shaking their bodies with an exuberant lack of coordination—a dance best described as pulsing mini-seizures. Of course, some of the kids and men were crafty with it, synced with the notes, dancing on beat to make quite a show, drawing claps and roars from the onlookers.This idea of grandeur originate...

3 comments 3
Read story

“Reeling by the Wind” by Togo F

Submitted to Contest #246

      “Pass me the line.” Shouted Josh, tinkering with the rod. I knew nothing about fishing. The term “line” held no significance to me, aside from it referring to a rope-thing. His backpack contained all sorts of trinkets, tiny toys, metal balls, worms, all neatly organized in separate canisters with transparent lids. Their purpose and use unclear to me, I brought him the entire bag.           “Thanks man. Finally, I got you out of that hole.”  &...

5 comments 5
Read story

Author bio

To define is to limit.