Shy boy, I am just a shy girl. I could never talk to you. I can only take your picture, as you dress, as you leave your house, as you stop at Starbucks, as you walk to the very street I live on. To the very house I live in. To my backyard…
Shy girl, I am just a shy boy. I wish I could speak to you. But I can only grab my morning coffee and journey to your yard, hide in the tree outside your window. I can only wait with my camera for a glimpse of you.
This is a long story I have to tell you. It could take years, decades, a lifetime.
People won’t listen when you have a story this long. They start talking over you. They leave in the middle of it.
They don’t understand; this story’s important. It has to be told.
I have to make sure you won’t interrupt. I have to make sure you won’t leave. I have to tell this story. It’s eating away at my insides and wants out.
So sit there, no sounds, get as comfortable as you can with those bindings.
This is a long story.
Yes, my eyes are wide.
Yes, my teeth are long.
Yes, my scales are dull and coarse.
But my light is the brightest down here, down in the deeps. See how it bobs, weaves, and lights up the dark. Does it not entice you? Does it not make you want to look closer? To come closer? To come see me and my eyes and teeth and dull coarse scales?
I may not be as beautiful as my sisters, but I can still attract a human.
I may not be as beautiful as my sisters, but I am still a mermaid.
Drabble
In German this is called Gift. So this is a gift I give to you. I would never be able to hold you so closely, wrap my arms around your heart so entirely. I would never be able to mesh with you in every muscle and vein.
Can you feel it embrace your heart tighter with every beat? Can you feel it grasp your lungs so strongly you can’t take a breath? Can you feel it overtake you?
This is how much I love you.
This is how deeply I feel you.
This is the only way to show you.
I like Inktober’s prompt list, so I’m using it for drabbles.
Drabble
Something chases me, as it chases all of us. I haven’t seen it, but I know it is just behind me, concealed in clouds, darting from star to star. The sun doesn’t frighten it. The moon doesn’t lull it. As my mother did, as her mother did, and far back into history as we have all done, I must eat, drink, sleep in flight.
Should I stop, it will capture me in its claws and rend my bones. Should I stop, its teeth will tear my neck.
I cannot fight it.
I cannot face it.
I am only a swift.
Don’t forget to sign up for my newsletter! I’m putting together lots of new stories to give away in it.
I’ve realized chapter two should probably start when they find the food, but we’ll go with this for now.
Novel: Fantasy Horror
They spent the rest of the night wide awake, the screech owls roaming in and out of the floor beneath them, trilling and coming close to the stairs, but not climbing them. In the morning Cole found words on the wall, right beside where the two of them had huddled together. They were etched into the stone, but old and faded, the reason they hadn’t noticed them at dusk. They weren’t in English, and yet Edward understood the words perfectly. At least the words he could read.
Don’t take……GO BACK…….
And then below that, in Chinese,
Keep going.
Novel: Fantasy Horror
More trills sounded around them that night, but none found them, close as they came. The ruined house proved a good hiding spot. When the sun rose Edward could see his bruise clearly, black and purple. He had thought up a plan in the night.
“Cole, I’m going to go on ahead and find some food. You’ll wait here and I’ll return with – ”
“No,” Cole shouted hysterically, leaping up. “You can’t leave me here.”
“You’ll be safe. You just need to hide here.”
Cole shook his head, his eyes wide and wild like a frightened deer’s. “No. I can’t. I can’t stay here alone. I won’t slow you down, I swear.”
“It’s not that. I just don’t want you expending energy.”
“I won’t. I can walk. Don’t leave me, please.” His tiny fingers grasped Edward’s arm and dug into his skin.
My newsletter is happening! Sign up for it under the drabble or through the annoying pop-up (sorry). There will be exclusive stories only available in the newsletter, along with other neat stuff, so don’t miss out.
Drabble
The house walks at night. Great creaking steps, keeping me awake as it stretches its foundations and carries me across the dark landscape. The view of the stars through the window sways drunkenly back and forth, one constellation framed then another. The roof bends close to my face and away again as it looks this way and that, searching for something in the night but I know not what.
It never finds it.
Only at daylight when it returns to its street, to its plot of land and settles do I fall asleep. If only I knew what it wanted.
Contains light spoilers for It.
This isn’t a review of the new It movie. With the millions of reviews out there, I don’t think writing one more will help anybody. Instead, I want to talk about a particular scene from the book that is sorely missing from the movie.
No no no, not THAT scene.
Novel: Fantasy Horror
They didn’t talk much that day. All their little energy was concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Edward put on his armor – minus the helmet – though his shoulders weren’t quite healed. The pain of the armor cutting into them detracted from the pain in his stomach.
Twice they found ruined walls, remains of buildings, stone that in an alive world would be overgrown with vines and weeds but here were only bare stone. It was tempting to break for the day in their foundations, but they had to keep going. They had to find food. The ground several feet around the stream was gravel and rock. There was nothing moving but the water in the stream, which remained thin and shallow. They paused to drink it and Edward chanced a look at Cole. His face was pale, his eyes dark and sunken and hopeless.
Smeared Black Ink 