Fairies Interrupted

Fairies Interrupted (story continued from A Fool for Christmas) The fairies crouched on a wardrobe, peaked through curving woodwork that crowned the heavy piece. A father and son slept on as they drew power once again from Christmas’ peace. Spinning a web from threads of holiday fun; winding in snow, mistletoe, presents beneath the tree; ho hos, cookie filled days, blended with carols, candle mass and sleighs… until the spell almost burst with good cheer. ‘Fore they could loose it, a voice insisted, a door opened, a man hurried in here. He shook awake the father, insisted that he rise, a lost … Continue reading Fairies Interrupted

graffiti

graffiti Words scrawled on the wall erode by magic, as it eats away at the paint, renders the writer’s message in tragic lines that blur, but don’t fade as the number of viewers rises to include a young man, illiterate, who sees only lines, takes away no meaning nor does his young son who’s tugging his hand, pulling out of line, not interested at this time in words written by adults on stone walls, left for people who don’t have adventures; forwards, he wants to go where there’s just canvas for life to paint fantastic landscapes, simple pleasures or destinies without ripples.  ~ ~ ~ Inspired … Continue reading graffiti

Beloved and The Trouble with Magical Security

(this piece references events that take place in Shopping with Mages) Beloved Inari brushed her long hair, her thoughts winged to Mount Eredren, to her beloved but her eyes rested on her son who hanged on what Sarn said; he, a substitute thread in the tapestry of her family. Nerule no longer competed for time her beloved spent not with family but with the rangers, working overtime. No, her son’d found a naive substitute, one used to playing the role, and always glad to include her son in his pursuits. Her family was eroding away. She was on a family trip sent by her … Continue reading Beloved and The Trouble with Magical Security

A Fool for Christmas

A Fool for Christmas (Picks up where Light the Tree left off) Nolo prayed, “O Lord, listen to our prayers and enlighten the darkness of our minds…” More he said, things ’bout visits and affairs of grace, the rest washed o’er Sarn and couldn’t find a home, so its meaning got lost somewhere between man, prayer and ignorant darkness. Nolo’s wife added a brilliant rose stone to the advent wreath, but e’en that brightness couldn’t enlighten a darkness all his own. So Sarn stood there, as he’d done two Sundays prior, wondering what wreath, tree and waiting time betokened, what would Christmas day require? Some understanding would surely come, … Continue reading A Fool for Christmas

Star of Change

Star of Change Said the night wind to people standing there, do you know what glows, people, way up high? A star, a star, of change, shining right there. It’ll bring change where’er it’s light passes by. Oh star of wonder, star of night, royal star whose shining eye regards our abode. On that silent night, when long knives, their toil cease; their owners sleep; their rage, peace erodes. Like a dove, peace descends in radiant light on that silent night when all is calm, all is bright, to alight on aspirants who struggle for peace ’till it’s in their palms. For them that star shines, torches … Continue reading Star of Change

Seconds

Seconds (Picks up where The Nutcracker left off) Nolo paused, caught half in, half out; a spy arrested by a scar, he’d come seconds too late to prevent; he’d saved the Kid’s eye, but not his face, too late by mere seconds. Yet just in time to save Sarn’s life, just so he could wreck it at sixteen by getting a girl with child. ‘Till that tree’s just so, that child is constantly rearranging. He was at it now though he’d enlisted help with the high branches and there they stood, young father and son, as the tree listed. A ball dropped, knocked … Continue reading Seconds

Button Holed

Button Holed (Picks up where Second Thoughts left off) “Between the shadow and the soul, I love you like a dark thing in secret,” she sang as flies buzzed around her head, while above, a boy sat making button hearts to hang. Sarn crouched down to see what his son had made. “For the tree,” Ran held a button heart strung with thread; Sarn took it and with a hug paid for its creation; hearing what was sung, and not liking its lyrics, he took his son into the suite and back to homey things suited to a child’s ears, only to run straight into … Continue reading Button Holed

The Rusted King and the Drum

The Rusted King and the Drum (Picks up where Between Dreams and Boats left off) Rusted nails twisted into a diadem. Three blood stones set in place of precious jewels. On a scrap heap he sprawled with a ripped hem. The King of Nimbledon, liege-lord of fools, price of thieves and bully boys–pay him heed all you creatures of the night, pickpockets, lock breakers, streetwalkers. Orphans bend knee to this tyrant, who reigns with a socket wrench for a scepter that calls all to order. His court of thugs, cheats and scruffy children wait to see who’ll be nailed to the girder. … Continue reading The Rusted King and the Drum

Second Thoughts

Second Thoughts (Picks up where Sparring left off) An open door framed the Christmas tree from where Sarn sat on the edge of his bed, his son’s head pillowed on his thigh, but from that angle what was visible instead, was not the silver fringe unraveled. The tree spoke of things unknown, begged questions with every hanging ornament and bell. Evergreen sprigs and wreaths–decorations that changed the familiar terrain leaving him confused at night, wond’ring where currents of this season would take him next, wond’ring if flight might’ve been best ‘fore his son learnt of this ‘Christmas’. The boy knew it existed, too late to file it away … Continue reading Second Thoughts

Dancing in the Sun

Dancing in the Sun She’s dancing in the sun and in its light, reveling in the setting day, laying to rest all our woes as night creeps into sight. Its purple, spangled allure is rolling on in and swallowing the east. In its folds she hooks her fingers and pulls, blanketing Shayari in sleep’s release. While in the west, she dances, a joyful spark on the horizon, moving daylight west and allowing those behind to rest. She dances ’round the globe raising dawn’s light and pushing out night ‘fore it can oppress. She’s dancing with the sun, whose rays caress, … Continue reading Dancing in the Sun

Reflections

Reflections Concentric rings disrupted the image reflected in the pool; drips from fingers dropped onto that watery assemblage where a pair of glowing green eyes linger. Sarn turned his back on the water’s mirror and the stalactite’s slow weeping to pace. His son continued making rings appear and glowing stones’ reflections dance in place. “Why you sad?” Ran asked, eyes on his canvas. “Not sad just–” Sarn broke off, magic crested, he breathed in deep, and fought it down en mass. It strained ‘gainst mental chains, then rested. Deep breath, water plinks, a touch to his leg, a hug, but he feels like a powder keg. ~ ~ ~ He’s walking, … Continue reading Reflections

The Bloodcrow

The Bloodcrow Through an aperture, he saw the Bloodcrow sift through the bodies scattered on the track. Dread hammered nails in his apathy, sowed a frantic beat in his veins, magic jacked… “Papa, wake up. You’re having a bad dream.” Small hands patted Sarn’s face, empyreal radiance cut ‘cross the scene in green beams. His magic threw the dream, reached for the real. Ran pancaked into a relieved embrace. Sarn blinked away that dream but its presence lingered like a whalebone in a back brace– still pressing its unwanted influence. “Why you not have good dreams?” Ran still held tight. “‘Cause fanatics did bad things in … Continue reading The Bloodcrow

Sparing

Sparing (Continues where The Perfect Stone left off) Sarn spat blood, ignored the bright motes floating in the red stain, as he rose for round four. “Come on, stop defending. Start offending,” said his teacher for this match, a man four decades past caring and two past Sarn’s age. “Come on, Kid, hit me. No more defense try some offense now. I could hit at your age.” In a glance, Sarn saw the practice stave by the wall; he’d lost it in the last exchange. A flurry of blows kept him moving back, dodging, blocking but allowing no change to tactics criticized in this attack. A halt … Continue reading Sparing

December’s Rise

December’s Rise November gives thanks to all who precede. After the feast, it gracefully exits. Autumn’s color fallen away indeed. A landscape blanketed in leaves permits December’s rise. It sweeps onto the stage alight with seasons greetings, warm regards, and Advent wreaths. ‘Fore the year turns the page, dream of a white Christmas and write your cards; send them with best wishes, then deck your tree. ‘Round your house string lights to guide Santa’s sleigh. Recall those who’ve naught on your shopping spree. Save something to donate; so on that sleigh, by gifts wrapped in sparkle and shine, a gift of your mercy waits, to be given with love. ~ … Continue reading December’s Rise

Mistaken

Mistaken A woman passed, caught Ran’s glance, made him start– for there walked his missing mama. Holding tight to his stuffed bear’s arm, he hurried, heart yearning for her touch. His small form’s threading through the market; the crowd’s blocking his sight. The market sprawls in a mile wide cavern. His mama could be anywhere. Dim light cheats his sight making it hard to discern. Down one aisle, then another, he’s lost now. He’s hugging his bear, looking everywhere. Mama’s gone; he’s abandoned, so he slows. Then he’s lifted up, held tight; Papa’s there. Ran was never lost at all just misplaced and … Continue reading Mistaken