So many aspects to every facet of life, the world. Like a fractal that starts with one thought and spreads outward connecting everything, everyone, everywhere, even though outside our perception. Find the connections and you have the keys to everything.
One Word. Sixty seconds.
Don’t think. Just write.
She swayed down the street, gazelle-like and teetering on her stilettos. Her makeup was immaculate.
One Word. Sixty seconds.
Don’t think. Just write.
I <3 magnetic poetry. It was one of the first things I got for my previous apartment (the very first I ever had on my own) to make it feel like home. It was only the basic set, so a lot of times I ended up snipping words into bits to make words I didn’t have. I actually kept a dictionary and thesaurus on top of the fridge, and a notebook so I could record poems as they were created. Just felt like sharing 🙂
they may ask
and we will tell them
how we were drunk on milk and honey
and the smell of storms
and love made well
“Have you ever seen anything like it before?” Chardra swung the beam of light at the grass, and it fell away in a sheet that smoked momentarily. An old woman sat next to her atop the hill. Graying blonde eyebrows rose in surprise, but her features remained otherwise impassive as she stared across the strange landscape. Snow drifted across sandy desert plains, and a rainbow-hued herd of horses appeared on the horizon.
“It’s incredible,” she breathed into the sky. The precipice dropped away into the distance below her toes. She’d been terrified when the idea had first occurred to her weeks ago; as the time had grown nearer, she hadn’t been sure what she’d do once she made it here. But with the world laid out before her, stretching toward infinity, and breezes playing through her hair, the fear seeped away.
“No turning back now.” She closed her eyes and spread her arms in silent salute to the sun, a blaze of fiery color on the western horizon. Taking several paces back from the brink, she knelt and pressed her lips to the stone under her feet. “See ya,” she said to the earth with a smile, as she stood up into a sprint.
The world disappeared into mist below her, and she reached for the clouds.
She had been ill, Tressa remembered, recalling in that distant, fuzzy sort of way you do halfway between dreaming and waking. The winds that blew in from the wylds had brought the Icewalker village ghostly voices and an ague that mysteriously affected only those with the Sight. She’d lain shaking from fever and chills for a week, but now found herself walking alone outside in the moonlight, expectation hanging in the air like the world holding its breath.
The dials rolled slowly under Starkov’s fingers, alternating static and dead air. It’d been two weeks with no contact. Shut away in their dimly-lit listening post, reports from HQ were the only indication that the outside world still existed at all. Manning his station had become reflexive: turn two degrees; stop; two degrees; static; pause; nothing; continue two degrees. Day after day, it’d become easy to convince himself that the enemy might be gone for good, but he kept his ear to the air. There was no telling when a signal might pop up again.
“Don’t go,” she said quietly, and the rain pounded away the tears, leaving trails of it’s own.
He took her face in his hands and kissed her softly, a bittersweet sensation prickling where his lips brushed the corner of her own. The best and worst kiss she had ever been given. Then he turned and walked away, and she could do nothing but stand in the puddles and watch his back fade into the storm.
These sheets are never warm enough.
They long for your caress
to spark that fire
that burns without light.
Note: This is a cleaned up/edited “flash fiction” version of a dream. Effort has been made to stay as true to the dream itself as possible.
Just when I thought we would never be done with walking, the undergrowth cleared, and there, finally, terrifying, was the beast. It stood watching us as if it had been waiting all along for our arrival. Its red aura painted a wicked, pulsing light on the trees around it, their bark seeming to ripple and wither away in its glow.
My body quivered with the instinct to flee. Jaren, unnoticing, stood ready to fight. But still the beast waited. I reached out and shook Jaren’s arm to get his attention. I don’t remember what I meant to say, but the words that came out were, “I’m going to run.” He turned then, shock raising his eyebrows, but he didn’t say anything.
“My powers won’t work here.” I held out my hands, a combined gesture of display and helplessness. The marks on my palms were already fading. Jaren saw and nodded, his face impenetrable once again. But for the first time since I’d known him, I thought I saw fear in his eyes.
I turned to go, the flight instinct creeping back in, but hesitated. I looked back to see Jaren watching me. His armored form eclipsed the waiting beast, a bloody corona casting his features into shadow. Feeling something more needed to be said, but not sure what, instead I closed the gap between us, and took hold of his collar, hauling him down into a kiss.
I had thought about what it might be like before, though in such girlish fantasies, it had always been him coming to me, my mouth yielding under his. I’m not quite sure exactly what I expected, but found myself more than pleasantly surprised when there was no hesitation in him. As our lips met, his kiss was soft and urgent — and over much too quickly. As he broke away, I placed both palms against the cool surface of his breastplate, pouring the remnants of my power into him.
He took my hands and squeezed them gently, and I could see the fear had melted from his face. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wished that it might be because of more than my magic, and that I might see him again to find out.
But Jaren dropped my hands and turned toward the beast again. The last thing he said was, “I will find you. Run.”