Paulo Pacheco

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Temple of Stories

Before you stretches an expansive space, a cavernous abode softly illuminated by a diffuse luminescence. No discernible boundaries exist, no visible walls where cold stone confines the beauty of this realm. At its heart lies a temple—monolithic and intemporal—a witness to countless ages, adventures, and dramas unfolding within the surreal time-frame of imagination.

Approaching the slightly ajar door of the temple, fireflies rise and fall, narrating tales through the life cycle of their own light. This is a sanctuary for imagination itself. Stepping into the edifice, you liquefy into the narrative etched on its floor, walls, and ceiling. You become one with poetry, plays, letters, fiction, and novels, wailing with the muses into the contemplative night.

Short Fiction

Formlessness becomes form. As you depart from the stories, you reacquire your physicality, gawking at that temple of poetic impossibilities. Your journey continues, yet within you now resides the amorphous seed of myriad universes.

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