Category: Stories

Self Doubt

ElvenAssassinLeave a comment

Fairytales are more than true:
not because they tell us that dragons exist
but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.
~ G.K. Chesterton

 ~~~~~

I am quaking in my boots at the thought of writing a book synopsis.  Not that I didn’t start before this – I did – but to write a tale of two star crossed lovers… well, even *I* hate a bad ending. Do they deserve a bad ending? Perhaps not, but that’s what some people get.

Raw.
Messy.
Emotional life.

And to what purpose?  ::shrugs:: Sometimes I wonder.

Who wants to read a book like that? There’s enough of that crap in the world! Fantasy is to escape,  not be faced with the world’s problems.

However, I realize that’s a coward’s excuse for not attempting it at all. And not to say they HAVE to have that ending… but I can’t imagine another.

I just feel stupid putting all my short stories together in chronological order. Does my overall story even make sense?

I guess I’m afraid of rejection and to be told it doesn’t. But that kind of stupid attitude gets one no where…

So I will quit procrastinating and flesh it out. It was always the ending that I was afraid of,  anyway.

::takes a deep breath::
…time to get back to it, then…

But he loved me first

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“I know which way the wind blows through you…”
~Berryl

~~~~~

Why is it this way, when he left his heart behind?
Gave me his secrets you would not have?

Why then, does the wind blow cold and stark?

He called them scraps
that
nobody wanted.

I saw three quarters of a man, mercurial,
slip through my fingers.
Pieces of him crushed and ground down into fine sand,
swept into a box, hidden away upon a shelf.

We all live in our cages.
Some more comfortable than most.

“But I’ve amputated! I don’t need them, see?”
He tried to tell me.

Burned those dreams and shelved them;
Aye, I see.

He loved me first, and long after.

A door left open; so why did he stay?

All I have left to me are ashes,
running through my fingers.

~~~~~

She stood there, hesitantly.

ElvenAssassinLeave a comment

With reluctance, she pulled herself away from the only thing standing between herself and anonymity.

Throat constricting, she cautiously peered from behind its rough edges of bark and across the tall grass, until her eyes met with the house sheltered across the clearing. This was the closest she’d dare come all year. Just thinking about taking another step caused a cold sweat to break out between her shoulder blades.

She closed her eyes, and slumped back against the tree; it took every will of effort to not be violently ill over the tips of her shoes.

“‘Never far’ you said,” she mumbled, “Fucking liar.”

The words hung acrid in her mouth, as the tears streamed unbidden.
Apparently this would be as far as she could muster.