The dreams always come in a queue.
From when my dad's new wife designed on my body new whip tattoos, to when I was forced below a middle-aged masked woman who had an oddly familiar smell in an ice cream van, to when I had my way with my sister, she was 6, I was 15, to when an older me had ways with other people, to when I was led behind cold iron bars with large silver rings on both my wrists.
I wake up from my dream as the other cellmates began to trade words with the wardens.







© Tobi Adebiyi
This was meant to be a drabble (100-word story) but Writco has a story limit of 150 words, so read my bio once again.


Short story writer ✍️
Literary fiction.📃
Speculative Fiction.😈
Sword and Sorcery 🗡️ 🪄
Fantasizer 👽
Not much of a poet but I also write:
Drabbles with Poetic styles.👍
Microfiction with poetic feels 🗞️
AND
Sonnets💜

All collabs are bookmarked 📌