Black Friday at the Low Market

Black Friday in the Low Market Sarn glared at the black cloth strip in his hands. Light-tight, once tied its weave would hide his eyes, suppress their glow, allow him to withstand the low market crush and not jeopardize his son who would be his eyes for this trip. Now tied, his vision cut off; his magic took over, gave different eyes equipped with a detailed map of the illogic that abounded inside Mount Eredren. “You take too long. We go now.” Ran tugged on Sarn’s trouser leg. “I lead.” Ran unfastened the door and started into the hallway, his promised outing … Continue reading Black Friday at the Low Market

Giving Thanks

Giving Thanks I’m thankful for all the bloggers I’ve met, the friends I’ve made and the lessons you taught. I’m thankful for great posts to read; they whet curiosity, spark wanderlust and thought. So thank you to those who proposed challenges, writing prompts and creative exchanges: Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers Photo-Fiction challenge by Random_Michelle Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Prompt Stomp by The MomHood Poetry 101 Rehab with Andy Townend One Word Photo Challenge by Jennifer Nichole Wells A Pic and a Word Challenge by Patrick Jennings Without your push, I’d not have mined my mind, dug up gems; so thanks for the weekly grind. ~ ~ ~ Thank you for the insightful … Continue reading Giving Thanks

Working Thanksgiving in

Working Thanksgivng in Darkness choked the magicked forest; a light kindled here and there to trick to travelers but not the patrolling Rangers whose sight ignored the forest’s enchanted feelers. Sarn shoved away an inquisitive branch, looked about for evidence of distress. Another boring watch with not a branch out of place and still more hours in this press. “Why’re we out here? There’s nothing happening,” he complained batting a thin bough aside. “You want to hear Thanksgiving’s beginning?” Nolo asked; he sped up to walk beside making conversation possible ‘gain. The trees leaned to listen to talk of men. ~ ~ ~ Sarn nodded, stepped o’er a recoiling … Continue reading Working Thanksgiving in

Pour Some Sugar on my Pie

Pie Making Inari surveyed her kitchen  and smiled. Lumir glowed red in its grate for baking, stone counters gleamed and a four year old child sat in silence arranging rocks, making patterns on the stone floor. Miren had gone to school, so also had her son Nerule. Nolo and Sarn both worked nights; sleep had drawn them in that morn. Waking Sarn would be cruel, so off to market she went, a withdrawn child in tow. Quiet he stayed, no ‘whys’trailed her through the aisles, his curiosity blunted but by what? That morn Sarn had sailed in, spent time with Ran in amity, before she’d chased him to bed; … Continue reading Pour Some Sugar on my Pie

Thankful Son

Thankful Son Ran listened; his uncle argued trouble but Papa ignored that; he’d decided. Papa’s words formed a warm, happy bubble. He was thankful for Ran, who sat beside. Ran hopped from table onto Papa’s lap. “I’m thankful for you too,” he said through tears. He recalled his mom, who left like a slap– leaving a sting that still caused tears and fears for Papa who had a dangerous job. Papa talked in his sleep and Ran listened. “You’ve still got me. I’ll won’t leave you, don’t sob. It’s okay to miss her,” Papa tightened the hug squeezing out a smile, not tears. Papa’s assurance chased … Continue reading Thankful Son

Thanksgiving Plans

Thanksgiving Plans “Why do we have to celebrate this year? We didn’t last year,” Miren grumbled, tossing graphite sticks at the paper stack too near a cheerful four year old, who sat browsing. Ran’s ears were pricked for interesting talk. “Why change? Why do you want to celebrate?” “Because things are better,” Sarn broke off. Chalk that up to change. He no longer berate fate or himself for his failings; his son was happy; his bro went to school and that was enough to be thankful for. He’d won some respect and he should celebrate that. “Nolo invited us and we’re going.” Miren glared but he didn’t … Continue reading Thanksgiving Plans

Thankful

Thankful “Do You know what I’m thankful for?” Sarn asked. “No,” Ran said, walking beside, hand fisted in his father’s trouser leg. They walked past many statues as the tunnel twisted, but the question kept his son from straying even though the lad’s fingers itched to trace the stone folded, imitating cloth draping. Quiet wrapped them up and kept the slow pace. “What you thankful for?” Ran asked, when Sarn failed to say. Sarn smiled at his son, “can’t you guess?” Ran’s brow furrowed as the lad tried and failed to work it out. “You tell me, I not guess.” Sarn scooped … Continue reading Thankful