Weekly Stories 2: 4/17/2023

Hey guys! Last time I just posted an impromptu story without much background, but this time I'd like to explain what I'm doing. For a couple of weeks (we'll see how it goes), I'll be writing a story every week. This week I focused on my ongoing book The Ring Of Allura and missed my deadline for the story I was planning (in a week or two, I'll go back to it, so look forward to a story about a rabbit, a class of 5th graders, and a very forgetful substitute teacher). So instead, I just wrote a quick snippet of lore for an ongoing story series I plan (not that my plans usually ever come to fruition), Isle of The Unread. Enjoy!

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ISLE OF THE UNREAD

The Cove Of Broken Glass

Deep under the aquamarine waters of the Atlantic Ocean, in the Isle of the Unread, where the light still glimmers faintly, there is the Cove of Broken Glass. Luminescent algae coat the rocks that line the cove, and seashells glitter brightly in small crevices. Everywhere, there are shards of broken glass, shining in a thousand different colors. There are the browns and golds of drink bottles tossed into the ocean, and the shimmering reds and blues of trinkets dropped into the water. For a thousand centuries, the broken glass has sunken, through heaps of plastic, through hordes of fish, through sharks and whales, and creatures no human has ever seen before, to reach the Cove of Broken Glass. As beautiful and special as the glass is, no one braves the treacherous journey to the Cove just to see it. Nobody ventures to the Isle of the Unread, simply to see the colored glass shimmer in the sun. There is something deeper, more dangerous, and far more precious in the cove. For centuries, in sunken bottles, you can find lost messages. From sailors, washed up ashore, sinking ships wishing to send something out into the world before their demise, or simply from a curious child who wants to try out what they have heard of in their precious storybooks. Half of these pollute the ocean, joining heaps of plastic to kill sea creatures. The glass bottles crash against rocks, to slice through crimson waters. Only the most special, the most important, float down to the Cove of Broken Glass. The type people look for. The type that is worth finding.