Showing posts with label fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fiction. Show all posts

Sunday, December 15, 2024

Lindars' Stories Revisited : Suzy Snowflake (Installment 1)

Suzy Snowflake

Or the Winter Break Folly

In small towns, it’s not uncommon for the youth to tell scary stories. At least it didn’t use to be. But since computers and TVs have become stronger influences, the old stories have been dying out. The children turn instead to patchwork stories told through films and video games, forgetting all too quickly the stories that used to make them shiver in the night. This is where our story commences. In an older house, a short walk from the lake.

There the landscape is dark save for a few lights that shine through a dark houses lower front windows. Upon closer inspection, the light displays to those that would peer in a group of children. They are sitting in the half dark under the watchful eye of their babysitter. They sit there telling tales about their summer exploits. The television sits in front of them, off. It has a slightly mournful air to it. The children were told by their parents that it was broken, and the children in the blind faith that only the young have believed them. The babysitter on the other hand knew the truth. Had the kids simply looked closer they would have found that someone had unplugged it.

But even so tonight was going well. The kids weren’t fighting, and there was a wonderfully light happy playful feeling in the atmosphere. The kids were happy because there was only 2 days left until their winter holiday would begin, and there was a lot of snow in the forecast in the coming days. The babysitter was also happy, curled up on the recliner in a fleece blanket she pondered her own world as she mused about the one the kids were talking about. She really had nothing to worry about for a month. It was about that long anyway when spring semester would start at the college. The only thought in her mind that was slightly problematic was that she only had 5 days left to complete her shopping in. Luckily tonight’s job was going to give her enough money to make that possible.

The kids were starting to run out of stories though, and were getting antsy. They weren’t as content as earlier but they were getting tired. They’d also been entertaining themselves for about 5 hours now, so she didn’t mind that they were getting tired and fidgety.

“Aer! We’re bored! Tell us a story?”

“I don’t know a story that y’all wouldn’t already know.”

“Can we sing Christmas carols then?”

“Sure, that sounds fun enough. Go ahead. I’d like to hear Jingle Bells and the others like that.”

The kids laughed in response and all started to sing loudly. Not all of the words were always correct, but that was ok. As long as everyone was having fun, what did it matter?

As each of the kids slowly dropped off to sleep, Aer would drop a blanket over their form. She also checked the time, sighing as she noted how late it was getting. Soon she would either have to get them up and ready for school or perhaps their parents would do that. She couldn’t remember exactly what the agreement had been in that regard.

She turned around at the sounding of a soft yawn. The youngest child was still awake

“Aren’t you tired Caroline?” Aer asked scooping the five year old up. Caroline snuggled into Aer, as she settled them both into a lounge chair.

“Mhm.” Caroline murmured, her fist nearly shoved all the way into her mouth. “Will you please sing me a song?”

Aer rocked Caroline gently. “Sure I could. Just let me think a bit. There must be some song that y’all forgot about. I would almost swear though that you kids know all the songs that I know.” She kept rocking the chair, humming a bit trying to remember a song.

“That sounds pretty…” Caroline said burying herself in Aers side.

Aer laughed quietly as she struggled to remember the words. They flitted around her mind on the outside of her conscious thoughts. She could almost hear them, in her grandmothers voice, but that had been years ago. “Hmmm la la la…” She had more than a little trouble remembering the words. “Da..da…tumbling down… Suzy Snowflake…”

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Originally published on one of my livejournals 1/31/2007 https://lindarfenume.livejournal.com/2482.html

Wednesday, May 22, 2024

Lindars' Stories Revisited : From The Dragons Journal

 Ultimately there’s something exhilarating, in knowing that you’re one of the creatures that bring fear into the hearts of almost every living thing. But fear is contagious, and eventually the thing you fear most is yourself, because there is no one to say that it’s ok. There are no boundaries between reality and what they imagine that you can do and become.

That’s one of the problems that the world has with dragons honestly. There is this whole order to things, and they say that magic is merely another name for illusion and that everything can be solved by science. But then what is science? Is science simply the breakdown of magic into terms that help the unbelieving to see the truth?

I can’t really say. I haven’t had the time or the luxury to delve deeply into the realm of science itself. Instead I spend my time pondering and trying to figure out ways to correct the wrongs and to help people to believe in the unbelievable, to simply have faith that what they can not see or feel or touch might really exist. There Is so much more to the world than what they decide is here.

I should know. Here I am wishing that I didn’t have to hide my reality when I walk amongst them. Wishing that there was a way to exist within their world and yet be what I really am inside. But people fear too quickly what they don’t understand. And fear of being considered a monster is more than enough to make one as myself and most of my kindred stay out of sight and out of mind.

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Originally published on one of my livejournals 5/22/2009. https://lindarfenume.livejournal.com/4170.html

Wednesday, May 1, 2024

Lindars' Stories Revisited : After The Dragons

They always ask "What happened after that...?" not realizing the implication of the statement. Every action has a consequence and each one is the continuation of a story. Each story is part of the worlds seemingly endless rotation of seasons and events. And what season is it? Surely the answer to that question is easy to decide. But even that depends on our perspective.

Currently, my perspective is a bit skewed. I'm hidden away from the light of day scribbling these words and thoughts by dim candlelight. Truly it is not the top choice on my list, but it is what it is.

So why am i even bothering to write? Is there a point? Is there really a reason for me to write these thoughts while hiding away? Yes, there is. I want to let you know what happened after the dragons.

Are they really gone? Will there ever really be a time without dragons? I hope not. Because it would be very hard to live knowing it ends for my kindred and I. But even so... I wonder how long we can last with the disbelief and fear that runs rampant through the world today. I pray that we never see the end of Dragons. For i can hardly imagine such a time.

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Originally published on one of my livejournals 5/22/2009.  https://lindarfenume.livejournal.com/3857.html

Friday, May 19, 2017

From The Archives : Lenore Part 1



Sometimes it can be fun to pull something out of the archives, just to see what people think of it. Sometimes this can have positive results, or it can have negative results. But either way, this is something I was working on for one of my livejournal accounts eons ago. I hope some of you enjoy it, and who knows, maybe in the future there will be more of it to read.
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There's always a minute in which I wonder whether or not what I do is wrong. But tonight it doesn't really matter that much. But i could feel the nagging little voice starting in on me as I dipped my hands under the faucet to meet the warm rushing rivulet that was being pumped through the pipes. I rubbed my hands together enjoying the sight, as the soap bubbled and helped rid my skin of the damning red stain of her blood.

It's never easy when i set to, taking a life. But everytime... I hear that small voice escaping them as they plead for mercy that they have rarely shown themselves it thrills me to the very center of my black soul.

But even that at times... rarely, but at times has been enough to stop me.

But tonight I couldn't help myself.

She had been standing in the rain as I drove along in the rain. It wasn't even a light rain... it was heavy icy rain that hit my windshield with a thud, mocking me with the idea that it could turn into sleet or hail at any moment. I barely even noticed her on the corner as the light changed to red and I was forced to stop. That was when my death instincts hit me.

Looking through the water splattered glass I saw her standing in the rain, positively soaked through. her hair was plastered to her head, and her clothing hung from her like loose sails on a sunken ship in the ocean, flapping in the icy rain as the wind drove it against her body and my car.

I didn't recognize her right away... but as my "training" kicked in i realized that she was listed to be...dealt with. So i rolled the window down a bit and peered out, turning on the overhead light so she could see inside.

"Hey... you want a ride?" I inquired softly through the barely cracked window as I reached over to unlock the passenger side door.

"Well... i'm waiting for the bus...." She sounded uncertain as she shifted in the rain and wrapped her arms around herself in a futile attempt to get warm. she most likely didn't see me as a threat.

"Yeah...well the next one isn't for another hour." I stated it flatly, because i knew the bus route around here well. Call it one of the curses of my job. I have to know how to find people.

"You don't mind? I'm awfully wet..." She looked inside my car and looked a bit uncertain.

"Aww they're just pleather seats." I laughed realizing she was worried about the seats inside my car.

"Oh.. ok." She smiled brightly at my laughter and reached over and opened the passenger side door and slid in, dropping her purse with a plopping sound, almost like adding a water balloon to a pail of its fellows, at her feet.

"Buckle your seat belt... Where ya headed..." I gave a command and a question as I pulled away from the curb as the light changed for the second time. In a way I suppose i was lucky that there wasn't anyone else out in that awful weather.

"the bus station..." her words, few as they were were heavy and acted as a weighted question. She was hoping for some direction, someone to tell her what to do now.

"you don't sound certain." I knew why... she was running. She was running and didn't want to be caught.

"I don't have anywhere else to go..." She said it with a little waver, and I wondered if she even suspected that I already knew everything she had ever done... both good and bad.

"You can come home with me then." I shrugged and smiled at her as I flipped the overhead light back off.

"Thank you." she sounded small and a little defeated as she said it, like she was relieved to have someplace to go besides the bus hub. I couldn't blame her. I reached down and turned the radio on to some old music and we rode in silence until we reached my home.

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Wings

Standing on the narrow window ledge looking down to the cement below, I feel a strange relief.  All that's left to do at this point is leap. The dying Queen city is quiet, most folks asleep in this slow place. Only the occasional sweep of lights float past as someone heads home from the last drink at the bar, or from closing up one of the office buildings. I imagine their weary eyes would never notice me here, nine floors up. Most of them honestly could never imagine living so far from the ground. Yet here I am, standing on the thin stone ledge my toes sticking out into the nothing before me.

I close my eyes inhaling deeply. Even so high, the smell of the fall leaves throughout the area fills my senses. I imagine if I looked out past the grey crumbling buildings I could see the orange tree tops at Tift Farms. But I don't bother to look. Instead I lift my eyes to the heavens, searching the stars and desperately looking for a reason to change my mind. But the stars only flicker and stare back, the full moon low and heavy in the sky. Her pale face holds no answers, but I can feel the cool breeze, colder now so late in the year than it had been in early summer. The breeze lifts my hair, sending loose strands to brush along my face and tickle my nose.

My hands, which have been pressed against the gritty grey stone of the building flex slightly. For a moment am uncertain how safe it is to lift one to brush away the hairs that are disrupting my reverie. But eventually I lift one hand, that in the moonlight looks pale and almost see through save for a dark line going from inside my elbow to my wrist. The blood from the self inflicted wound has slowed but it has not eased the pain within me. Looking back at the moon, I feel a pain shoot through the very core of my being. A despair for the joy and existence that once I had enjoyed. My heart yearns for a yesterday that may never have been. A time that I imagine, and believe with all my heart to have existed. My eyes lift again to the moon, as the pain strikes my heart again.

I let out a small cry, my shoulders leaving the stone work as a sharp stabbing pain shoots through their blades. My fingertips curl some holding to the stone work as the pain increases, I cringe, my feet shifting on the ledge as the back of my shirt is torn open. A coppery scent hits the air around me as I lean forward slightly more, my body morphing and pushing forward. I take a deep breath inhaling the smell that I recognize as my own blood. It's stronger now than I've ever smelled it before, and I inhale deeply. The pain at my shoulders numbs slightly but I can't lean back against the stonework now. Which means I can't got back to the window I came out of.

The frustration, angers, fears, and disappointments that have driven me to this point finally cause me to crack. Salty hot tears stream down my face as I shift again. In doing so I look over my shoulder, seeing a pair of blood coated wings pressed against the stone work. I can feel the chill that rolls through my body at the realization. I shift trying to see if I can spread them. They open wide with little effort the blood sprinkling around me as they unfurl. I look up into the sky again as if to find an answer for this. But there is no answer. The stars are silent and know nothing of my plight or what kind of peril this change may have in store for me.

Defeated and changed, I close my eyes again inhaling deeply the scent of the world and myself. There are so many things that I would have done differently, so many things that I would have seen changed. But none of that matters anymore. I understand now that I am nobody, and that in the end I will be the same as those that came before me. Forgotten. Then finally understanding, I lean forward into the cold night air; wings spread wide as I leave the ledges safety, unafraid of what may come.

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Grandfather Pluyta's Song

I was going through some of my older files recently, and I stumbled upon a folder buried in my writing folder. It's of a few short things I had been working on when Maru was working on the Jinopets project. It didn't last too long, but I remember how much fun it was. So I'm going to post a few of them here to share them with you. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did then.


This is what a Pluyta was.

 The dawn of time
Was not long past
When our story first began
And the phoenix Aeroh took to flight
Giving the day its light
But not to be outdone by her
The silver Nigard took to the sky
And where the shadows fell at night
Made stars, and phoenix he reflected.
The waters bubbled and broiled as deep beneath the sea
The Nasinar started to chant
And creatures filled the sea
On the land the earth was barren
 But the Metak saw to that
Forest soon were growing
And the scent of flowers filled the land.
Khaurn though scorned the daylight
And took to making caves
Kenja being quick to the chase took to the plains
The others all divided, living close and far
And each of them was different
But no single one can be called the star
For in truth as is reality
To be fruitful and have joy
There must be some interaction
And everyone must have a voice
After the jino’s had taken to the world
Humans seemed to just appear and populate
Far corners of their earth
And as we find now, as we see
Jino’s and humans are family
For together there is much to learn
Together they can destroy or build
Which brings us to today
Remember that the choice you make
Can affect another’s day