Pádraig Barry (PJ)
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pjbarry.bsky.social
Pádraig Barry (PJ)
@pjbarry.bsky.social
Retired shaggy guy. Nurses and surgeons are my heroes. An English Major Should Have Been, LH Guy explains a lot, Married to a Saint, What a Great Life We Are Having Together 🚫porn
It was impossible to tell whether the paradox was unraveling the fabric of reality or just the university’s budget, but either way, the Dean of Oxford’s Time Travel Department looked like he needed a biscuit.
#vssmagic
November 30, 2025 at 2:36 PM
Agnes was staying at the widow Goode’s boarding house. In the middle of the Blitz, with bombs falling like punctuation marks on every sentence of their lives, Agnes found herself cherishing the absurdity of tea still being served every day by Mrs. Goode at precisely four o’clock.
#2WordPrompt
November 30, 2025 at 2:28 PM
Allie stood on the threshold of the ballroom, a pale wisp of a girl haloed in chandelier light, as if the night itself had paused to watch her decide whether to enter or vanish. I watched too. Had she decided to forgive me? If she vanished, I knew she was gone forever.
#bravewrite
November 30, 2025 at 2:20 PM
A dust up with the Army in the 1980s had forced Eneas to exile himself from Ireland, or so they said, but in the end, the matters that undid him were quieter: a prayer unanswered, a letter returned to sender, a child unnamed.
#vss365
November 29, 2025 at 2:39 PM
After her drop to monitor the crowds at a Jefferson Airplane concert, the technician handed Agnes a crayon and a clipboard. “Draw what you saw,” he said. “Even if it’s just a blur.” She drew a blur.
#vssmagic
November 29, 2025 at 2:25 PM
The crowd was huge. They moved as one, united by hunger and the promise of bread. The sun hung low, casting long shadows by the bakery doors. The scent of yeast and ash drifted from the ovens. They had waited before. They would wait again. Hunger had taught them how.
#2WordPrompt
November 29, 2025 at 2:13 PM
Ellie sat on the porch, the rifle across her knees, watching the sun fall behind the badlands hills. It was her father’s rifle. His heritage. She had never fired it, but she kept it clean and handy.
#bravewrite
November 29, 2025 at 1:59 PM
He spoke of his health the way one might speak of an unwisely spent inheritance, as though it had slipped through his fingers one cigarette after another and never returned.
#vss365
November 28, 2025 at 4:38 PM
The exodus from the lab began after Dr. Douglas announced a “minor containment breach.” Agnes was one of the first ones out. She had seen the professor foul up before. Judging by the smoke and the screaming, the breach was neither minor nor particularly contained. Vesuvius came to mind.
#vssmagic
November 28, 2025 at 4:33 PM
The time to make the jump was waning. With the system down, the time techs gave a wild estimate of the jump coordinates, which, given their track record, meant Agnes would either land in 1940s London or the middle of General Lee’s stall with Traveller.
#2WordPrompt
November 28, 2025 at 2:22 PM
Happy Thanksgiving Brenda and crew. Legend has it that road runners descended from turkeys that got away.
November 27, 2025 at 1:03 PM
Agnes found the Union soldier mortally wounded on the battlefield. Just yesterday he had provided her water from his canteen. She tried to bend the rules of time travel just enough to save him, but history, as always, was a stubborn beast. All she could do was hold his hand.
#vssmagic
November 27, 2025 at 12:28 PM
It was not the learning of books that saved him, but the learning of silence, of how to hold his tongue when the world turned crazy. Jack held his wits when all about him were losing theirs. He was nowhere near downtown when the riot broke out.
#vss365
November 27, 2025 at 12:19 PM
By the time the crimson maples turned, their leaves a quilt of flame, it was clear the autumnal land had its own design for letting go of summer. I could not complain. Letting the summer go out with a blaze of glory sounded good to me.
#2WordPrompt
November 27, 2025 at 12:12 PM
Beep beep! Happy Thanksgiving!
November 26, 2025 at 10:29 PM
One glance, and he knew he’d make her his wife, but she would have none of it. He spent the rest of his life trying to forget her.
#bravewrite
November 26, 2025 at 2:40 PM
My father, adamant in his silence, built a wall of years between us, brick by brick. He had envisioned me sharing my life with some gay colleen. However, my heart had other ideas.
#blueskyrelay
November 26, 2025 at 2:33 PM
Looking into the pond, Agnes caught her reflection. She had to laugh at the dirty serf girl who looked back at her. She had thought doing PhD studies in time travel would be glamorous. Mostly though, like history, time travel was a dirty business.
#vss365
November 26, 2025 at 2:23 PM
Sheriff Barry found the meteor crater behind the church just after dawn. The earth was torn open, blackened at the edges. He stepped closer. Then he heard a rhythmic sound. Something inside was breathing. He didn’t draw his gun. He didn’t run. He just inexplicably whispered, “Not again.”
#vssmagic
November 26, 2025 at 2:06 PM
The war had been lost and the plantation lay in ruins. But tomorrow was another day. A champion knows that. He father knew that and so did Scarlett.
#2WordPrompt
November 26, 2025 at 1:57 PM
Sage advice is letting a man come to understand things on his own. Jake wanted to climb the scree slope above Hunter Village. He said he needed a challenge. I tried to elaborate on the finer points of mountain climbing, but there’s a decency in letting someone earn their own bruises.
#inkmine
November 25, 2025 at 1:53 PM
The old warhorse listened to the pretty revolutionary. She spoke of equality. He listened, but the war had taught him something else. It was a survival of the fittest world. He would not shatter her illusions. He had an illusion of his own.
#bravewrite
November 25, 2025 at 1:38 PM
Agnes timed her entrance to the Court of St. Anne for dramatic effect. However either the tech had misread her coordinates or the time machine hiccupped. In any case, it dropped her in the middle of a medieval pig market in her finest gown.
#vss365
November 25, 2025 at 1:27 PM
The old man told Agnes that there was gold in them thar hills. He qualified it by saying the real lode wasn’t gold but stories, buried in the bones of the land, waiting for someone with the patience to listen. Agnes thought him very wise. Patience and listening were her core skills.
#vssmagic
November 25, 2025 at 1:14 PM
He drank the coffee slowly, letting the heat settle in his chest while the wind scraped dust across the porch. The lack of sleep made the ride harder than it should have been, his hands ached from gripping the reins too tight, and the horse had felt it too, skittish on the loose shale.
#2WordPrompt
November 25, 2025 at 1:04 PM