A Tale of Sea Songs [RW08]

A Tale of Sea Songs [RW08]

A soft murmur of voices cascaded through the tavern. Another person dead, last week, from what he could tell. A traveler from a distant place this time. Still, no closer to killing the beasts in the waters off the shore of the village. Still, no closer to saving the town from ruin. Many hunters were in the tavern, hoping to slay the beast. The glory, however, could only go to one of them.

“Are you going to stay, sir?” A small girl, no more than ten asked him. She was a pale thing, scrawny, and dressed in tatters. But there was a beauty to her that would come into fruition as she grew older.

“Yes, a room for one please.” He answered her.

“For a night or forever?” She asked with a tilt of her head and a small smile. From across the tavern he could see the tavern keeper, a beauty to behold in these parts. It was a wonder how some great noble lord had not swept her off her feet and carried her back to his castle. The woman must have been a cunning one, sweet words and bitter lies. A mother teaching this girl to con people with doe eyes.

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Fairy Reverse Story [RW07]

Fairy Reverse Story [RW07]

The day was for monsters. The sun was for the beings that crashed through the forests, and controlled the waters. They thrived in the light, and used fire for protection and destruction. They were children of the heat, and inhibitors of the world. Their children, copious. Their actions, malicious. Their ignorance, incredible.

And the day was theirs.

There was a time, the elders told us,  in which we traveled upon the earth in the day. When we did not have to fight for our lives, and cower in abandoned corners of the world. A time when our people sang bright songs, and guided the monsters. We had thought the monsters incapable of harm, like a child. We had believed them of us, but other in a way. Their otherness was far more than we expected.

And the day was theirs.

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Quake [RW06]

Quake [RW06]

Car lights moved across the glass, refracting into the room and causing shadows to dance across the walls. Thunder rumbled as the sky was lit up once again in a flash of blue that did not belong to a car, lightning? Christopher sat with his back in a corner, breathing deeply. It was becoming increasingly hard for him to breathe as he pulled his knees closer into his chest. The nightmare had been a recurring one: clowns, smiles, guns, screams, and blood. He didn’t want to go to his parents. they didn’t know that he had watched the babysitter’s movie from the shadows of the staircase.

The house creaked. Old houses always made sounds. It was the way they breathed, his father told him. He didn’t like thinking that the house needed to breathe. The house wasn’t alive, or at least he hoped so (he’d seen a movie about a living house once). The house whispered out as if someone was walking through the halls. He knew that it was childish of him to even believe that someone was in his house. His parents had a security system, the best around. No one could break – there was the distinct sound of footsteps. The footsteps were heavy, much like his father’s before morning coffee. Christopher focused on the crack along the door frame, trying to decipher the shape of the changing shadow on the other side of the door. Car lights moved outside, causing the door to glow intensely. Then they bled, and shook, rattling and cascading lighting the world in fire. His entire world was shaking. The fans, the lights, his bed, his world, and he knew it was himself. HIs entire body was jittery as he tried to sit still, silent, hiding.

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The Romeo and Juliet Murders {RW05}

Murder-Suicide. That was the official rumor as to how the Darlings of the city had died. A lavish love affair turned sordid, only no one knew who killed the other. It was one thing for the daughter of a CEO to die suddenly, to be found a few days later dead by bleeding out. It was another to find her dead twice, with the young upstart in the world of business, son of their rival company. Traces of poison were on her lips as well in the system of her lover. It was his knife, but he died from poison. She died from a knife wound (this time, she was dead for sure).

Yet, no one knew who died when. Or why her cousin was dead as well. Or why… well, a lot of people died when connected to the two families. They weren’t exactly on the same side. They held the city in the palm of their hand like the territory they lived on were castles, and all the land they could see was their kingdom. Lots of people had died with connections to the two families, in recent months. Some even said that the two had planned to fake their deaths and were killed by a third, making it a double homicide. All Jules knew was that it could not be this easy.

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Something of a Dream [RW04]

Something of a Dream [RW04]

She awoke as she always did, naked and next to the body of some man who had been far more attractive when she was drunk than when she was sober. The room smelt thick of cigarettes and the memory of smoke that was etched into the walls and carpets from years of filling the room with smoke so thick one could not see. Plucking the glasses — sharp, cat eyed, and thick rimmed — from the bed side table, she slid her feet from the warmth of the body next to her and to the floor where her slippers lay waiting. 

From the covers she flew, discarding them in her wake, uncaring for the body of the man who had no more business remaining in her house. She took three steps before she was searching for her robe. Turning back to her bed, her side was neatly tucked into the bed and a silken robe lay atop it. Snatching it, she haphazardly threw it around her body and rounded the room divider of her studio loft. Her kitchenette was chilled and unused that morning, other than the steaming hot cup of coffee waiting for her in one of her favorite mugs. 

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Memory [RW02]

Memory [RW02]

Memories. They come and go tickling the senses as they do. The smell of grass. An old book. Spring rain. Autumn wind. The feeling of summer’s heat, blue skies, or gray ones if you like. I know that when I hear the sound of bike bells I remember the years of riding our bikes and skate boards and scooters to the park. The baseball game would be going on and with our twenty dollars we could fill up our small bags with candy and sweets. But we had to be fast or else our parents would notice we left the neighborhood. All that candy we just bought? It needed to be scarfed down before we forced our stomachs to endure a healthy food shock that was dinner.

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About the [RW] Series

About the [RW] Series

What is the [RW] series? It translates as Random Writings. It’s just a series where I let my brain state what my brain wants to state on random things. There is no real meaning to it. They may be large. They may be small works. In some ways they could be considered poetry, but I wouldn’t go that far.

They are random writings, my personal writings about things.

MM