Ochre Idyls

Poems, Haiku/Tanka, Short Fictions

Good god. You want me to accept I'm not human? I bleed, I tire, I'm a mess, man.

You are perfect. By design.

Your design. That's what you're telling me.

Yes, my design.

But I'm not like you.

I made you better.

You should know, there is no better.

The creator smiled, at last.

  • Fiction
  • 54 words
  • < 1 min
  • July 16, 2025