Valiant Scribe
A literary hub giving voice to the voiceless by retelling the human experience

cut from events and ensuing wounds, body helpless, intently attuned. fragile afflictions, tender and bruised, crouch and hide, any...

I’ve learned to keep my faith in place, and sing of streets, warm hands cupped around coffee, fresh memories steaming to the surface,...

The world could use more fireflies. Not in a jar, but brightening that space – you know, the one between the space, the night we stare...