Trés Mediocre

*3 flash fiction pieces


How do I proceed? One at a time.

All I can see here is suffering. Everyone competing, miserable at their constant lack of ability to measure up to some monolithic cultural ideal. Their souls are starving.

This world looks normal, but it feels wrong. The leaders are corrupt. The divisions are stark. The successful are beyond decadent. The poor wake up under a merciless sun, sell their daylight for whatever they can get.



Everything is a work in progress.

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