The door creaked slightly as it opened. Tristan felt a slight chill enter through the entryway, slightly disturbing the warmth provided to him by the crimson walls, eggshell frames, smokey panes, and the popping, crackling, yellow, white, and red blaze in the fireplace. The door closed with a dull thud, and the latch engaged, with […]
Tag: storytelling
Oasis
The flat, dusty, brown serpent stretched out in front of him. Paris raised his eyes from his boots and gazed at a point on the horizon. At this juncture, the road was swallowed by a slowly descending, molten red-orange, half-circle that bravely fought off the impending darkness. The sky was swept with vivid hues of lavender, pink […]
Room
Paris adjusted his position in the chair. As chairs go, it was far from anything special. It was rigid, with no cushion or padding of which to speak. It was constructed of some unidentifiable wood, covered by a thin layer of a dark and slightly copper hued paint. The paint flaked off the chair at […]
Open Heart Incision (II)
The muscles in his forearms began to quiver during the motion as recollection of his prior procedures pulsed through his mind. Crimson droplets beaded at the site of the cut as he drew the knife horizontally across the faded scar on his chest. Flickering squares of red and white bit into his vision as he […]
Open Heart Preparation (I)
Tristan sat in perfect stillness in the old wooden chair. A stranger walking into the room would scarcely have noticed the micro-movements of his shoulders, rising and falling. A friendly soul would not have perceived movement of his muscular chest and trim stomach. He was statuesque to the observing eye, but inside, he was a […]
The Statue
Paris took a very regular route to and from the tower. With little deviation he passed the vendors, and houses, and people, and carts, and barrels, and open windows to meals, and closed ones to arguments. His daily travel to and from his source of income shifted and twisted very little. A left here at […]