Posts Tagged "fiction"

The Hunt

Posted on 8 Nov 2011 | 4 comments

Well folks, here is the next installment of Emmeline, sponsored by NaNoWriMo. I hope to get back to my Holstee Manifesto Series once I’ve caught myself up with the novel. Hope you enjoy a bit of fiction this evening. Much love and warm fuzzies to all my readers.

As we approached the dragon, it stood its ground, barring our way. Derek placed his palm out in greeting, dragging me along behind him. I wasn’t precisely sure what the protocol was for meeting dragons, but I didn’t want to insult him by looking him in the eyes. So I kept my gaze downcast, even as it paced back and forth. Derek stopped, a bit confused.

“Lig, what’s the story?”

Apparently this dragon had a name. I didn’t like the way that it kept staring at me and snorting, however. And I’m guessing that Derek didn’t either.

“Derek, she is claimed.”

Derek looked at me directly, with a great deal of compassion in his eyes. “Emmie, I need you to answer this honestly, ok?”

“Sure, Derek.”

“Have you at any point in time, to your knowledge, made a bargain regarding your soul?”

“Are you talking like a Faustian soul sale? That’s ridiculous.”

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It was always you…

Posted on 13 Aug 2011 | 0 comments

I knew there was something wrong as I walked up to the car. But I kept hoping I was mistaken. I pulled up on the handle and…
It was open.
When I looked in through the window, I saw the frayed end of the cable that emerged from the tape deck. The thief couldn’t even be bothered to unplug the cable from the CD player. So I opened the door. I figured it could have been worse. It could have been a broken window, a stolen car. Then the strangeness set in. My five favourite discs were sitting on the passenger seat.
You’ve got to be freaking kidding me.
Someone had taken the time to open my disc case and remove the five CDs that were on constant play in my car. I should have been relieved. I could have assumed it was the musical angels watching out over me. But reality kicked in. Common sense in this case dictated that the thief was someone who knew me. And didn’t just know me, but knew me well enough to know the CDs that I cared about. Don’t get me wrong. I was incredibly grateful that I still had them. But the sense of betrayal from this wasn’t going to go away easily. Suspicion kicked in.
I knew the two people that it wasn’t…

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The Gates Are Open

Posted on 10 Aug 2011 | 1 comment

There was a cool breeze blowing bits of my hair into my face. Normally, I wouldn’t have minded, but at this moment, the last thing I wanted was the irritation of spitting fine strands out of my mouth. My fingers curled tightly around the hand clasped in mine. His hand was warm and calloused, every time I held it, I was reminded of the alarm clock that rang at 4:30am. He worked with his hands, building and renovating old houses. I could feel his strength seeping into me through his grasp. We were lying on the grass, staring up at the campanile. The clock seemed to be moving painfully slow, as we waited for it to toll midnight. Each blade of grass seemed to press into my flesh like a thorough acupuncture session. Even through my shorts and tank top, I could feel the strange little pricks to my skin. I had contemplated slightly more sturdy wear, but it was summer in California, and anything more than shorts and a tank top would have left me gasping and sweat streaming down my spine. I turned my head to face him. His long hair spread out around him like a halo.

“I’m scared.”

He turned to look back at me with an impish grin. “There’s no need.”

But how do you explain to your best friend that the thought of other worlds was a bit much, even though you’d been living with it for your entire life?

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