He slumbered. For millennia, no doubt. But when he woke it was always to the same rumbling, the deafening crackle of magic like thunder, the stretching of his body to infinite proportion as it squeezed him through a space too small for him to fit, before making him whole again. The space around him came to focus slowly, dimly lit shadows dancing in flickering torchlight, fading fast, a single breath from extinction.
And like a passing sandstorm, they faded, clearing his vision, leaving behind only the shape of men and women, deathly still, crushed beneath the rubble. They’d come for his treasure. For gifts and talents unattainable. At a cost none could fathom. And like most, they earned nothing but a spot among his collection of bones.
The vacuum of silence exploded, as his sense fully returned, only to realize that the stillness of the room did not match the wet gurgling sound echoing against the cavern walls. He frowned, crossing his gargantuan arms over his chest, looking for the source of such desperate gnawing and froze when he saw it.
At the foot of his looming shadow, a small, suckling child sat, it’s tiny mouth pressed against the handle of his golden lamp. Continue reading
“Well,” he said, making sure his sigh was a loud, exaggerated masterpiece, in case she happened to miss the point. “Here we are again.”
There was a long pause before she snickered. “We’re nothing if not consistent.”
He could hear the smile in her voice. Yup. He rolled his eyes. As usual, she missed the point entirely. Continue reading
Her feet slapped against the smooth stone floor. Each step a heavy thud as she dragged her body forward. The sound echoed against the empty walls, harsh in the silence.
The candles had long burned out. Only the moon filtered through the portico, offering a wash of silver light.
She stopped when she came upon the great statue, and fell to her knees. Continue reading
We were the last of the pure race. A straggling group of humans traveling among the stars, looking for a place to call home. We never settled on any of the terraformed planets- like so many of our species- though it wasn’t for lack of space. Every week The Winged Herald reported over the wireless that a new moon or dwarf planet had been transformed into a habitable environment for the heartbreakingly finite number of human refugees.
I used to dream about what life would be like in those colonies. A life that mimicked Earth’s old routines before everything went nuclear: school, farming, government. What would it be like to wake to the warm light of a star shining through my bedroom window, signaling the day? Or to dig my fingers into the wet soil and plant foods that would grow in an array of colors more brilliant than the nebulas?
I would never know. Continue reading
After years of silence and hiatus, Lisa and I are thrilled to be returning to Fiction Fridays!
I know I can safely speak for her when I say that writing our pieces of flash fiction has always been such a fun side project for the two of us, a great way to stretch those writing muscles and to jump into stories or ideas that perhaps we were afraid to expand upon until we actually wrote them down – and loved them!
We are starting slow, just to make sure we can really give it the care it needs as we get back into the swing of things. You well get one story from each of us (2 stories total) a month for the time being. My first will post on January 12th. Lisa’s will post January 26.
Join us! Maybe you have a hankering to try your hand at something short and creative. Share it with us!
We can’t wait to see what awesome, creative things we can explore together! 🙂
Image by Dot Myl – Google Plus
Hello dear friends and imaginative travelers!
We regret to have left you at the Tree alone for such an extended period of time. We thought of you often, and despite our best efforts to return, the Door to the Tree eluded us, busy as we were fighting monsters in our path.
But if you’re here, if you’re listening… we’re knocking.
Where will 2018 lead us?
Come along. Let’s find out.
“You look beautiful,” Mother said to me again, one final time, as she placed a tender kiss on my forehead and slipped out of my dressing room, closing the double doors behind her.
I stared at my reflection in the dressing mirror and tried to see what she saw. Surely, the woman staring back was stunning. The image of bridal perfection. Black hair beaded and braided. Lips tinted. Cheeks flushed dark with rouge. Hazel eyes darkly lined and shaded. A hanging gold tikka on my forehead, encrusted with dazzling amethysts that matched the royal violet of my silk sari to perfection.
Regal. Elegant. Practically divine. So why were my eyes so devoid of light? Why did I feel so empty inside?
“Because you don’t love him,” he said to me, appearing on the window ledge, as though he’d been there all along. “You have never loved him, Maya.” Continue reading