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For Sale

Red, painted lips pressed against the infant’s head, and his mother rose and turned from the still child and left the darkened room.  Her quiet voice hummed a lullaby her own mother used to sing to her, and she walked to her own bedroom to get dressed for work.

Her uniform was already clean and laid out.  She checked her purse to make certain it had all she needed, and then began to change.  A kiss on her shoulder told of her husband’s arrival.  She turned to look at him and smiled at him. “Mind helping me change?” Her wink was flirtatious, and he smiled back at her as he zipped her bright red tube top into place over her chest.  It was a struggle against her large breasts. Read the rest of this entry »

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Posted by on August 7, 2013 in Modern Fiction

 

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The History of Lake CLASSIFIED

“I don’t think this is such a good idea.” Vincent frowned as he looked around. “The old quarry is so eerie at night.” His voice trailed off, and he flipped his collar up to protect himself from the light rain that ran down the back of his neck.  It felt like tiny shards of ice.  He looked to one side at his best friend, the younger girl called Melanie. “You should run home, Melanie.”

Melanie shook her head and held his hand, as around them, the six adults kept the two moving inside their circle of bodies. Read the rest of this entry »

 
 

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The Glass Spire

Twelve years before humans counted the years, a great star fell from the heavens in what is now known as Elkriggsfel.  The crater was massive, and the dust wiped out many.

It is rumored that from each of the surrounding peoples, a representative walked forth into the newly-formed wasteland.  Many died along the way, and those who did not die were not seen or heard from again.

Four generations later, local rulers began to send out parties of scavengers and planters into the allegedly cursed lands.  With water and work, humans reclaimed the land slowly. Read the rest of this entry »

 

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The Binding of Elise, Part Two

Continued from The Binding of Elise.

As Elise and her kitten matured into young adults, they became more and more inseparable.  One never saw one without the other, and Elise walked most often with the lanky cat about her shoulders, draped elegantly and always purring.

Elise spoke often to the small feline, often as though she understood the language of cats.

The next winter came and went, and Elise’s father met with various families to find a husband for his reformed daughter.  It took only a few visits for him to find a suitable husband for the girl in a childless, wealthy widower named Dalton, and the engagement ceremony was extravagant as my nephew paraded Elise for all to see.  He tried to forbid her bring her cat, but the cat followed regardless, and charmed Dalton with her friendly manner.

The marriage took place in the spring after a short engagement, and Dalton and Elise got on well together.  Despite his years, the pair seemed to be of one mind on many topics, and Dalton even carried Elise’s cat sometimes.

Elise moved in with Dalton, and I was invited also– along with my runt kitten.  We moved in, and life was lovely. Dalton’s home was lovely and lively, and Elise made an ideal lady for it.  She quickly learned who to trust and who to dismiss among his court.

Many times during the first months, I noticed Elise in the company of Dalton’s physician.  She never noticed me, and always seemed worried.  Whenever I asked, she deflected my questions.  She became adept at dodging my worries.  I asked Dalton, and he offered to ask the physician, who gave him no answer, either.  We worried, and Elise continued to live her life merrily, despite our concern.

Eventually, we found out.  Elise was barren.

Dalton was shocked.  His elderly mother demanded he get the marriage with Elise annulled in favor of a more fertile woman.  He refused outright, and asked Elise to discuss options with him.

Impressed by his care, she eagerly discussed the possibility of adopting from another family, or allowing him the use of a surrogate.  Together, they sought such a woman out, one who resembled Elise, in hopes that the child would look as though it was properly theirs.  They found one, paid her, and kept her near.  Elise and the woman, named Beth, got along well and became like sisters.  My grand-niece offered Beth an adoption into the family, and Beth tearfully accepted, for she was of base birth and had nothing save what little fate gave to her.

The adoption was quiet, and few outside the family knew of it.  The birthing was anything but.  Screams echoed throughout the keep, and lights in the town burst to life as the townspeople woke from sleep to hear the screams of what they thought was surely the death of their lady.

Beth delivered a healthy young boy as morning dawned, and handed him over to Elise with tired hands.  Beth didn’t survive the night, and Elise was devastated.  She put on a brave face as she cared for her new son, named Beneth after Beth and me.

Despite the loss of Beth, the family was happy, and Beneth was a hearty child.  He brought Elise from her depression with ease, and the people of Dalton’s lands accepted the boy as the heir happily.

Our pleasant life lasted a few months before something horrible happened.  An assassin snuck into the keep.  He dispatched Dalton and his mother before anyone was aware of his presence.  Elise was stabbed in the chest.  Beneth was untouched, because Elise’s cat protected the infant, and her yowls brought the guards in time to arrest the assassin.  I arrived at Elise’s side once I saw the boy safe, and my vision was too blurry to see much.  I thought I saw the cat stick a paw in her my grand-niece’s mouth, but it might just have been the feline batting all cats did when they were curious.

The physician took Elise’s care seriously, and saved her life.  She recalled nothing of her family or the attack, however, save that she had a cat.  I took over the care of Beneth, and Elise’s cat cared for her with love and affection, despite a broken body.

I checked in often on the pair, but neither seemed to make any effort at recovering beyond their current state.  At length, I spoke with the physician, who informed me that the pair were simply slow to heal, and were showing signs of recovery, even if such signs here slow and minute.

It was early in the morning on a winter day when I saw Elise sitting up for the first time.  The cat sat on her lap, and Elise stroked the creature.

“Elise?” I asked in shock as I stepped toward her.  She looked so thin, and no longer had any sign of femininity on her gaunt face.

Slowly, she looked up. “Grampy.” Her speech was stilted, but I didn’t care.  She recalled me finally.

With slow steps, I approached her and hugged her with gentle, trembling hands.  Elise hugged me back.

“I’m going to be ok now, Grampy.” She managed with a tired smile. “Just worry about taking care of my son, please.  I’ll recover.”

I nodded slowly and kissed her forehead. “I’m glad you’re doing so much better.” I murmured in wonder.

She smirked. “Go, let me rest.” she urged.

Over the course of a week, she and her cat both blossomed back to health, though their movements were eerily similar.  The cat no longer showed any new white whiskers, and lost those that had appeared in her brown coat.

Truly, such a recovery was miraculous, especially so suddenly, but something didn’t seem right.  I continued to check on Elise.

Suspicion rose in the infirmary, and I heard rumors of witchcraft and fate.  I tried to silence them, but one of the assistants to the physician carried a grudge against magic and all of its ilk.  She poisoned Elise, and though my grand-niece survived, she survived only because of the very thing the assistant feared.  I watched as the cat bit its own paw and shoved the bloodied pads into Elise’s mouth.

Elise survived.

Elise was too damaged to recover her mind.

Now, my grand-niece believes she is a cat, and the twin to her pet.

 
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Posted by on February 6, 2013 in Semihistorical Fiction

 

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The Rebirth of the Suleyes

Crash!  The bottle shattered against the wall.  A young boy with bold eyes, barely missed by the projectile, stood his ground.  One eye was nearly swollen shut, and his cheek was bloodied.  A nubby child’s nose bled freely into his panting mouth.  He straightened his shoulders. “Are-” he cut off for a moment and cleared his throat. “Are you done yet, father?” His tone held a coldness typically reserved for old warriors.

Outside, the warm night breeze beckoned the strong-willed child as his father reached for his hunting knife.  The boy stood his ground as his back felt the balmy light.  Without flinching or outcry, he braced himself as the drunken man stumbled closer. Read the rest of this entry »

 
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Posted by on February 4, 2013 in Semihistorical Fiction

 

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Gladiator

Sweat dripped down Ahbi’s caramel-colored back.  Her white, short chiton was nearly transparent with sweat as she grappled with a man in leather armor who stood a whole head taller than her own impressive height of six feet.  Her hands were locked with his, and with no-kicking rules in place, neither seemed able to disconnect safely.

Flashing cameras distracted her and her opponent for a moment as the viewers held their smart phones aloft, trying to zoom in on the best possible shot of the fight.

Ahbi took a risk.  It wasn’t green by the rules, but it wasn’t forbidden, either.  She ducked and lunged between his legs, then yanked his arms behind him, flipping the heavy man down her sturdy back.  He released her in shock, and she released him, then dropped an elbow down just under his ribs.  He coughed, and an orange-and-black clad referee wearing a holographic clown’s mask ran over.

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Posted by on December 31, 2012 in Futuristic Fiction

 

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