Friday, November 21, 2014

Magnolia 2.0

Felt like a morning for a slightly darker flash fiction (150 words), and I went for an ambiguous ending rather than my usual twist. In some ways, it almost feels like a counterpart to the first FF I posted on this site... similar flavour perhaps? Must be these grey winter days :)

I waited until the magnolia blossoms fell. Brown and bruised, they layered the ground like wet feathers, refusing to separate even when I dug deep with the blade of my shovel.

The rain was a sprinkle rather than a downpour, comfortable enough to shrug off my jacket as I grew warm with effort.

Wet dirt has its own distinct sound, thick and sluggish rather than the eager staccato rain of dry earth. The ring of metal against small stones was muffled, clay offered a reluctant invitation, and each additional shovelful hit the pile with a tired slump.

I buried her in the wet spring ground, feet together, wings folded. Beads of light rain turned grains of dirt into brown tears on the white flight feathers I had patiently cut to keep her home-bound.

Her face was cold, but still soft as I stroked her pale cheek one last time.


I took Eva out for a very short walk yesterday and got caught in the November rain. It wasn't heavy, but with the wind, it was still... unpleasant. Time to (maybe) put on some socks and a jacket... definitely not the weather for tank-tops and barefoot runners anymore.

...and certainly the maple leaves on the ground are no longer crisp enough to crunch and kick when I wade through them :(

I waited until the magnolia blossoms fell.

Sunday, November 2, 2014

By the sea

I know it's not Friday, but I woke up this morning with a new line in the forefront of my brain.

Once there was a castle by the sea which beat the shore with furious waves.

By the sea 2.0

Daylight Savings Time is kindof awesome because I woke at the regular time, but still had an hour to enjoy that sluggish, half-asleep dream state where (sometimes) my brain likes to tell me stories.

No editing happened on this at all... I wrote it all in less than 5 minutes while I drank coffee. I really do think writing flash fiction improves the overall quality of my first drafts...

I could write this story into a novel... well, rather, I think it could be one of the 'drawer inhabitants' stories from this.

Once there was a castle by the sea which beat the shore with furious waves. They built a platform out into the water, hauling stone from a far off quarry, and there they called girls to sing the sea calm. Day and night they stood until their voices gave out, then the waves dashed their bones to sand.

Once there was a rocky shore, rich with tidal pools, rich with life, until stones were throw in and walled up. Sorcerers were called to sing spells, a war cry to frighten the corals, the barnacles, every small creature that could not swim away, those who had been crushed by the first assault. And though the invaders were fierce, the wind and waves did not tire, and they beat back each sorcerer to protect their smallest, most defenceless wards.

Once there was a great core of stone that was dug up, piece by piece and shaped into magnificent statues and architecture. But instead of becoming grand and admirable, some was shaped in rough blocks and cast into the vile, salty water. Instead of  gleaming white in the sun and admired, it grew green and pitted, and the waves raged and tore, wearing each mighty block into sad, shrunken shadows.

And once there was a girl who was called to sing by the sea.