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 […]
Tag: story
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 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 […]
Pulling Down the Night
I sensed that you needed a gesture, a sign, an effort. You needed a motion, a massive, magnanimous movement, that all the little ones couldn’t provide. You needed a sweeping, soaring, sizable display, to make your heart swoon. It had to be considerate, calculable, and colossal in scope. So I struggled, and strived, and stretched myself […]
The Tower
Each evening, Paris returned to the tower. Sometimes, he returned when the sun shone radiantly in the sky, and its warmth still lingered on the walls and windowsills he passed on his route home. Many people were about at this time, scurrying around like beetles at their agendas and errands. He passed a scholar on one corner, and […]
The Saga of Cartebuz pt.2
Then came the fingers of blame. In trying to make even the supply, the king had gathered the food of the land together at his modest castle. For he was a good king, kind and fair. And he took no more than the miller’s share. And gave no more to his daughter than the barrel […]