Pen

He gave me a pen. I thought it would give me stories and pictures. But not these kinds of stories or pictures. I don’t mean to write these things. I don’t mean to draw these things. These are not mine.

They are the pen’s.

Don’t look at me like that. This isn’t me. These words, these creatures. I try to use the pen and it does this. It comes from the pen, seeping out from the tip in red ink. He put these things in the pen.

This ink and his blood, it’s one and the same.

I’ll show you.

The Snow

MERRY CHRISTMAS.

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Drabble

Don’t go out in the snow. It’s crimson and viscous. Not at all like it used to be. Once it was pure white and like dust, like sugar coating the landscape.

Don’t go out in the snow. It’s thick and it grips feet and legs. Once it was calm. Once we used to walk through it.

We used to throw it and kick it in the air.

We used to never care that it might fall on our heads.

Don’t turn your face to the snow. Don’t let it settle in your eyes.

It isn’t like it used to be.

The Apothecary

This is the last one from the list!  And this one was hard to come up with, probably only because it was the last.  As for other things, I’m working on rewriting some short stories that are part of a series, so I still might not be posting quite so much.

Drabble

He held the tiny paper package out to her, and his leather mask slithered and roiled, as if something crawled beneath it. “This is the poultice for Midwife Bera.”

Though his hands were gloved Alisandra still felt her heart flutter when his fingers touched hers.

“Are you ill?” he asked. “Your face is flushed. I can prepare you something.”

“No!” Her cheeks grew hotter as she smiled at his kindness, always his kindness. “I’m fine.”

She sighed when the door closed behind her. How stupid to fall in love with someone who would never show you their face.

Lost and Found

Found: lost soul. Appears ancient, but in actuality quite young. Wispy and dreamy. Blue and gold. Was found near bus stop in Georgetown.

Sarah looked up from her laptop, out the window at the drizzling rain. The fog it made on the window brought those words back to her mind: Wispy and dreamy. Blue and gold. She had lost her soul so long ago, but this one sounded like hers.

But it couldn’t be hers. Search as she did through the classifieds, no lost and found column could describe her soul.

Her soul was dead.

You just know these things.

United

I’m ready.

The mask is drawn over my face and head, as it’s drawn over yours.

Soon we’ll be one mind, united. I’ve been waiting for this day ever since the day I first met you. I’ll be every part of you from this moment on, and you’ll be every part of me, one mind in two bodies.

It begins, and I see your inner thoughts. They are… Ugly. Hideous. Spiteful. Hateful. You don’t even love me; you just saw this as a means to an end.

Oh God.

I can see all of you.

And you’re in me now.

The Fall

You humans speak of the Fall as a terrifyingly quick event, as if we just fell from the sky at terminal velocity and crashed to the earth. But it wasn’t that sort of Fall. It was, rather, a descent, terrifyingly slow in our inability to turn back, stepping softly onto the ground at the end.

But one must think if we were able to climb down, then surely we can climb up again, slow and steady, step by step. Given enough time, maybe we could even reach the heavens from which we started. Maybe we can take back what’s ours.

What’s Left

His joints squeaked as he pushed and pulled through the hallway. The gravity had been the first thing to go, but he had no problems moving in zero. The humans getting used to it had quit being a problem when the life support gave out.

He turned a corner, his elbow creaking. He passed through the doorway into the observation deck. There was nothing new to see. The station’s position was the same, dead in the water.

But he still enjoyed the view.

He reached the window, and everything squealed as he settled. The oil supply was gone now too.

Squeaky Wheels

The wheel had been squeaking for so long, Catherine imagined she could still hear it even after it broke off the carriage.

“I told you about that wheel, Robert.”

“Squeaky wheels don’t just always fall off, miss,” Robert complained, jumping down from the driver’s seat.

Squeak. Squeak.

She could still hear it, away in the distance.

They looked off into the trees, down the path. Someone was coming.

Not someone.

Something.

SQUEAK. SQUEAK.

It trundled down the path and as it passed, it turned its head to look at them. And Katherine saw

it had wheels

that squeaked.

Ferry

When the ferry left the dock, I wasn’t on it. I turned to the docksman as I had a hundred times before.

“Isn’t it enough?” I said. “How many times do I have to go back?”

“Don’t know why you complain.” He hooked a thumb at the crowd behind me, waiting in line to board. “Any one of these guys would give anything for immortality. But Charon won’t take you on. You’ll have to turn back.”

I stood on the shore and looked out at the Styx, wondering what I had done in what life to deserve this.