Whoop de do dah

I always want to start with some kind of deep introspective moment that leads into something I can be proud of. This post is not going to happen if I hold myself to that high standard. I need to lower my standards to get a pattern going, then I can focus on improving the quality. So here goes.

Mildly unimportant update, I no longer hold my job at McDonalds, I work for a call center, for Geek Squad now. I fix level one computer problems. Whoo. Onto the writing that no one will read!

30 minute daily freewrite

When I dream, I dream of you.

To the me who lives without fear of what I said yesterday

and what waits when I open my eyes tomorrow

I dream of you.

In you I see my doubts are few and false shadows

weak kneed in the light of your confident smile

I dream of you.

You, who spends the night not tossing, back and forth

with dreams of dread and looming future fears

I dream of you.

Running ahead of who I am, painfully past my reach

just far enough ahead that I cannot catch your shadow

I dream of you.

11/07/14

I want to wonder, wandering

aimless in my world, made up.

To depart from my day to day,

return to defenseless dreaming,

Break free dance with my oldest friend

etherial entity who was called by all

Imaginary. Right will be right

in the way my friends used to be

forever.

So part of it was a free write poem, the other half an edit on a poem I found in a notebook when attempting to clean up my room. I’m not really pleased with the second one but it is what it is. I didn’t embark on a quest to write a poem tonight but it did come out. I guess listening to hipster licence free music on spotify make you do that at times.

Goodnight, hope to be back in a pattern of attempting to write every night.

Random free write

A good friend of mine challenged me to take 20 mins a day, to do a simple freewrite every day. So here is day 2.

I think I’ve always been locked in this room. The top of my world is a chunky, cottage cheese texture, that feels a bit powdery when I touch it. The sides are a smooth beige, with just a hint of gloss to it. Here and there are little marks where the brush left too much paint, drying into ridges that create small shadows. I like to run my fingers over these little lines, tracing them over and over. There is one part of the wall where a hole was made, then patched over with thick swaths of white paste. This part is the same powdery dry as the ceiling and I hate it. I get frightened when I run my fingers over it.

The floor is a puzzle of small blue chunks of stone and glass, each one a different shape and shade. Some are shiny, some are dull, but all are blue. A few of them are chipped and the grout around the ones by the door is missing, from when the waters came in. The water didn’t scare me; it made my floor look like the ocean. My favorite stone is a tiny one near the side of my bed. It is a little triangle, no bigger than my big toe, with one corner rounder than the other two. The blue of this one is a dark, dark shade, almost black. One day, I realized if I stared at it long enough and tilted my head just right, I could see tiny silver flecks in it, glittering in the lamplight. Sometimes, when it gets too loud, I stare at that stone and try to count the bits of silver light inside it. I always lose count.

I walk the circuit of my room every day, from the edge of my bed in the corner, around and into the bathroom in the corner. All along the walls, there is a bit of paint that is a little shinier than the rest, where I keep my fingers on the wall as I walk, so I don’t fall. I like to trace the little stones and the gaps in the tiles by the door with my toes, counting each one, each day. Once, one of the little blue stones came free when I traced it with my toe. I picked it up and hid it in my pillow. I kept it secret and safe until it was taken away from me. I cried for a day when they took the stone from my hand.

I don’t like the door. I can’t touch it, so I don’t understand it. The metal looks like it was brushed over and over with a very fine toothed comb, until it became a man sized wall of dark grey and silver lines. There is no handle on this side, just a small shelf mounted to it that my meals come in on. The tray is wooden and goes through the little opening to the other side, where the food and supplies come from. The door goes from the blue stone floor to the ceiling, so wide across that I can’t touch both sides at the same time. Sometimes I hear voices on the other side, but never for long.

I dunno. Sleep well everyone.

Well then...

Another random poem I guess?

Stranger

Hey, hi!

I almost didn't see ya

It's been awhile, hasn't it?

I'm doing good, I've got no complaints.

I'm not driving that old beater anymore,

Got myself a new car, doesn't break down on me.

The family is great, everyone misses you.

Mama had a scare, the Big C, but Lord knew what's to be

Daddy is retired now, he won't leave Mama alone.

How are you? Where have you been?

That's good, you always had a talent for it.

It's been so long, you've been busy, I'm sure.

I saw your brother the other day, he seems fine.

How about…?

Oh.

Oh.

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

I've gone and made it awkward. Just like I do.

I don't know what to say, sorry doesn't feel like enough

Oh, yes, you go ahead, I sure do know.

Those errands, they won't run themselves, will they?

It was great, seeing you. It's been too long.

Call me when you have free time.

Don't be a

~~~~~

Creepypasta 2? Its been a while...

Yeah, I dunno....

Randomly felt like writing a poem and this is what came of it. I'm going to Halloween Horror Nights so I guess I'm in the mood for creepy things.

The title isn't really creepypasta...
~

Knowledge is power

I know that nothing goes bump in the night,

But I lock my car door a little faster at night…

I know that rustling in the bush is just a cat,

But I walk faster every time I hear it…

I know nothing is watching me,

But my scalp still tingles as I unlock my door…

I know that tapping on my window is a branch,

But maybe it’s just a little too insistent to be wind…

I know nothing is hiding behind my curtains,

But I still hold my breath as I draw them back…

I know that knocking on my door isn’t ominous,

But it’s 2 am and it’s too quiet outside…

I know monsters aren’t real,

But those eyes glowing in the hall don’t seem to know it too...

~

Have a nice night! 

Oh hai dere...

No words.

Or really, lots of words. But no life update. Not really in the mood.

Hey, have a story I don't know how to finish properly.  Heck, it doesn't even have a title.

~~~~

Her gnarled hands fussed with the duvet as yet another grandchild of a grandchild was paraded past her bed. This one wailed and squirmed as he was presented to her, turning a vivid shade of red. He was the last, and youngest, of this year's crop of children. Two hours of presentations wore on her nerves, every infant and toddler looking too much like the one before.

    "He's just tired, Mother." The eldest of her daughters smiled. "He'll be strong, with those lungs."

    "Or he'll just be loud." Another of her daughters chimed in.

    "Hush. Both of you." The old woman's soft rasp was hard to hear. Sometimes she forgot how old she was now. "Do any of you hens have any more chicks to show me?”

As the squaller’s mother wrapped him in a blanket, the eldest daughter stepped forward again. “Not today, Mother Rhina.  Arianne and Tsiporrah will both have their babies in a couple of months, then Domonic’s twins another couple months after that.” She fussed with the pillows behind the old woman’s head. “Oh, good news! Mason and Kinny just found out they are expecting a couple days ago and a little bird told me Little Cara might be too.”

Rhina pushed at her daughter’s fussing hands. “Oh, go on already. I can’t possibly be bothered to remember all of these girls and when they pop out another screamer. Just bring them around every year and I’ll look them over like I always do. Now go! I’m old, I’m tired, and I’ve had enough of your silly nattering. Go!”

The room emptied as the hens shuffled out. She knew as soon as they were out of the room, the clucking would turn negative and cruel. “It never changes. No potential.” She sighed as her hands fumbled for a small bell. “How will I ever…”

Her bell rang out clear and sweet as she shook it. She crossed her arms as a door in the corner opened. A small cart rattled out, pushed by a young woman in a simple servant’s dress.  Wordless, she set up a small dinner tray at the end of the bed, with a small silver lidded tray and a glass of water.

“Gods above and below, those children of mine are absolutely useless. Especially Demitia. So obsessed with bragging about her own girls.” Rhina struggled to push herself up higher on the pillows before snapping at the servant. “Well, what are you waiting for? Help me up. I can’t eat half on my back like this.”

“Yes, Mother Rhina.” The girl slipped her arms under the woman’s knees and shoulders, lifting her and setting her into a higher seat. “Now sit still.”

She watched as the girl tucked the blankets around her wasted legs and placed the dinner tray within reach. Under the silver lid was a mix of vegetables and spices, fragrant and steaming. A pitcher of water remained on the cart in case it was required, as well as a tiny brown bottle, stoppered and sealed with wax. The room was silent as the old woman ate, keeping her eyes on the tray. Spices warmed her throat and belly as she spooned up the dish with measured bites. At the end of bed, the girl stood, quiet, with eyes trained on the floor and hands folded in front of her apron.

When the last bit was gone, Rhina pushed the plate to the edge of the tray. “Thank you. The new cook did a good job today.” The girl leaned forward for the tray but the old woman grabbed her wrist. “No, leave it for a minute, Leah.”

At the mention of her name, the girl looked up with a strange light in her eyes and a grin curling at the corners of her mouth. “I almost thought you forgot my name, Mother Rhina. Wouldn’t that just be a shame?”

“I hope you don’t think you’ve earned the right to be rude to me, girl.” Rhina’s frown deepened, but her eyes crinkled, ever so slightly. “You’ve let your hair grow out some since I saw you last. And what’s with this mess on your wrist?” She turned over the girl’s hand, running her gnarled thumb over a small pattern of chevrons.

    “Now, you know exactly what that means. And why I’m here.” Leah pulled her wrist free and picked up the small brown bottle of the cart. “The question is, are you ready to accept?”

    “Can’t say I am yet.” Rhina crossed her arms. “You could hear Demitia from the servant’s entrance. Air headed and short sighted, I can’t leave the family to her.”

    “Are you sure?” The bottle glittered in Leah’s hands as she pulled the stopper and tilted it over the old woman’s glass of water, still untouched. “It would be so simple. Free of smell, and taste. An escape, one you know you want.” A single drop hovered on the lip of the bottle, fat and quivering in the slight breeze from the window.

Rhina eyed the droplet, the promise, with tired eyes. “Can’t say it’s time. Not right now. Too much to do right now.”

    “Too much to do?” The girl laughed as she flicked her hand back, a practiced gesture that pulled that fat droplet back into the bottle smoothly. “Please, you can’t even walk to the courtyard anymore by yourself. You need at least four attendants to get past the parlor at this point. What are you waiting for? For one of your ‘hens’ to take charge?” Her laugh bubbled out again, soft and sad.

    “Might be. Might be I’m waiting for a sign.” Old hands reached for the glass of water, her throat dry and tight. The glass shook as she tried to lift it, water threatening to splash over the rim. With a disgusted sigh, she fought to steady the quake.

Strong hands cupped hers as Leah guided the glass to her papery dry lips. The water was cool, Leah’s hands warm around her own as the girl helped her set the glass back down.

    “It hurts, Mother Rhina.” Leah fussed with the blankets, her eyes on the floor as she spoke. “When I left, I hated you, for sending me away like you did. Over time, I figured out why. I found out who you were. What you were. They trained me the same way.”

The old woman watched the top of Leah’s head, at the tiny spot her curls spiraled from. “I had no choice. The mark was there and you were of age. Am I… your final task?”

“No, no, that was some politician two years ago. The sisters wanted to send another, an alycote to offer you the Mercy.” Leah tucked the small brown bottle into a pocket. She scrubbed at her eyes; they were red and shot with veins. “I came here of my own choice.”

Nodding, Rhina reached for the girl’s hand. Again she ran her fingers over the four small triangles on the smooth wrist. Then over the matching marks on her own. “I can’t leave yet. I promised myself I wouldn’t leave without showing…”

The words tumbled out on their own. “I wanted you to know that it’s not about being alone. I wanted you to have another, someone to follow you, close to your side. So you wouldn’t be like me. But these girls, they all take too much after their father, him and his sweet old heart. I never could get him to say a harsh word to our girls.

“I still can’t say what he was thinking when he proposed to me! But he was so kind, so selflessly loving, I said yes. Then came the children; I counted their toes and blessed their fingers. I led the family through many years, watching for a Marked Child. It was so long then, two generations, that I thought the Mark wasn’t going to rear it’s head again.” Rhina took a long, shaky breath. “Then you were born. So smart and quick, I cried to watch you grow. I had to send you away. Even then, I continued to watch. Each year, every caterwauling bundle brought here, to get pinched, prodded and cooed over by my girls. But never with the signs.” Tears were flowing freely now, down her cheeks, and dripping off her chin. “I won’t say I’m sorry, I did what was right. I hope you can think well of me for it, later on.”

Leah wrapped the old woman tight in her arms. Rhina could smell herbs in her hair, along with the sharp tang of the spices from dinner.   

~~~~~

Blargh

Umbra is the darkest part of the shadow

Hey all,

And by all, I mean the less than 10 people who read this.

These isn't a new piece, but ons that I quick posted on Facebook.

I didn't want to lose it again so here goes!

Untitled

It's three am and all is well.
The fan whispers in the silence,
with a hiss tick hum, hiss tick hum.
Drowning out a cacophony of silence
with a hiss tick hum, hiss tick hum.

It's three am and all is well.
My fingers dance over a quilt of faded red,
patched and stitched, worn and ripped.
I curl beneath it, my stalwart shield,
patched and stitched, worn and ripped.

It's three am and all is well.
Darkness is my canvas, dreams my chalk.
Colors in the umbra, rainbows in the night.
Masterpiece past recognition, immaculate
Colors in the umbra, rainbows in the night.
~~~~

Dragons, rainclouds, and all kinds of stuff.

This was a rather lengthy project, wasn't it?

I turned 29 recently. That happened.

~~~~~

Dirt and dust drank up the cold spring rain, turning the narrow road into a long slick mud path. The misty rain beaded up the Julia’s shawl, glittering silver in the light. The hem of her ankle length dress was caked with the pale mud that stuck to the heels of her boots. Her brothers ran ahead and behind her, jumping in the grass after frogs and bugs. Ever so often, one would hoot, calling the other over to see what he caught. The young woman shook the collecting rain off her hat as the younger boy ran up to her, his hands clenched tight around something.

“Julia, Julia! I caught a salamander! Look, look, and see!” Thomas thrust his cupped hands towards her, mud splashed up to the knees of his pants.

She held out her hands, glaring down at him. “You give me that poor creature this instant and stop playing around.” Gingerly, she picked up the dazed salamander and desposited him into the tall grass by the road. It blinked up at her for a long moment then darted away.

“Look at you, Thomas. You’re covered in mud.” Julia whistled to the other boy as she wiped at the mud on Thomas’ knees. “If you and David ruin the new britches Father bought you, I’m not saving you from a whipping.”

The older brother stood staring the way they had come, past the bend in the road. Mud plastered his back front waist to shoulders and a long wriggling snake hung from his grasp. Julia whistled again, the sound piercing the dull patter of rain. David dropped the snake with a jump and ran to her side.

His eyes were bright as he caught back up to her, smears of light brown mud spread across his cheeks. His arm was pointing back and up, at the thick grey storm clouds. Julia grabbed her handkerchief and attacked the offending smudges. David fought to talk around the cloth as she rubbed and scrubbed.

“Jule, down the-” The handkerchief passed over his mouth, forcing him to remain quiet for a moment. “You gotta-”

“I don’t ‘gotta’ do anything.” Julia grabbed Thomas with one hand and David with the other. “You two are going to walk beside me and behave.”

“But-”

“No.” She pinched his ear. “Children should be seen. Not heard.”

David jammed his free hand into his pocket and stuck out his lip, pouting as he stomped through the mud. Thomas took a cue from his older brother and followed suit. Julia rolled her eyes for a moment before resuming the march home. The family home was still two miles down the road and the sky showed no sign of slowing down.

The dull sound of rain on the road took over the senses, a constant spat pat pat. She kept them towards the middle, avoiding the deeper sucking mud along the sides of the road. Each rain drop rolled off her hat and landed on her shoulders and skirt.

An errant gust of wind tugged at her skirts and buffeted the trees around the road. Julia clapped a hand over her wide brimmed hat and looked up to see a massive form dropping from the sky behind them. Two wide leathery wings chopped at the air as thick scaled legs settled onto the muddy road. The shoulder stood twice as high as a horse. Grey scales glittered and shone with a layer of rain. Above all rose the thick wedge of a snout and two large eyes, set on either side of the massive skull.

Julia scrambled backwards, pulling her brothers with her. She stared hard at the dragon, from the heavy ridges along his eyes, to the long thin tail. From a wide leather and silk harness hung a badge of office, from the royal council. A simple device hung from the chest straps, showing him to be a minor lord in the service of the queen. He glanced in her direction and inclined his head before heading in the same direction as her.

Julia resumed her walk, moving closer to the thick mud along the side of the road. She kept a tight grip on her brother's hands. David kept craning his neck around to look back at the dragon.

She jerked his hand, bringing his attention back to the road. “Don’t stare, it’s impolite.”

“But I want to see.” David turned and side skipped over a rock. “I tried to tell you he was close but you didn’t want to listen.”

She bit her lip and groaned. “Just keep your eyes forward.”

The dragon’s longer strides brought him right behind her small group in a few minutes. Julia skirted further to the side of the road, struggling in the thicker mud and stones.

The distant rumble of thunder gave a few minute warning as the rain grew heavier, the drops splashing down on her skirts and bodice. Thomas started to whimper. Julia bowed her head and continued to trudge on through the mud.

A shadow sprang up over Julia and her brothers. The rain stopped. With a gasp, Julia looked up to see a large leathery wing above them, blocking the rain. The dragon look ahead steadily as he walked, slowing to keep pace with her. His massive claws left deep prints in the mud which quickly filled with rainwater. Julia could feel the heat coming off his scales from several feet away, a heavy warmth that smelled like burnt paper and spices.

For minutes they walked in silence, the young woman, the boys and the dragon. When she finally worked up the nerve to speak, Julia’s voice came out in a squeak.

“Thank you, good sir. You’re too kind, giving us shelter from the rain. Our home isn’t too far, just a bit down this road.”

Keeping his snout pointed ahead, the dragon’s great green eye looked onto her. “It’s no trouble, young lady.” The sound was deep, a rumbling closer to an earthquake than a voice. “Might I have the pleasure of knowing your name?”

Julia dropped a quick curtsey. “Julia Woodson, my lord.” She bit her lip. “If you’ll forgive me, I don’t know your title, my lord.”

“Dunmoore. Lord Draelach of Dunmoore. Liason between the dragon council of Elders and Her Royal Highness, Queen Victoria.” He inclined his head in an abbreviated bow.

They lapsed into silence again. The boys were staring in shock, drinking in every detail of the enormous creature beside and above them. Julia ventured another attempt at converstation. “Quite a messy day with all the rain about, isn’t it?”

The dragon’s chuckle was a deep rumble. “In my life, I have never thought a day with rain was

anything less than a blessing.” He lifted his face to the rain, small rivers flowing down his scales. “I never feel so clear minded as when it’s raining.”

Rain splashed off the wing stretched over her as Julia looked the dragon over. From nose to tail, he was longer than a horse and carriage team. His other wing remained tucked firmly to his side. Two thick bands of pale blue silk crisscrossed the widest part of his chest, forming an ornate harness. From this dangled medals and ribbons of commedation. In the center hung a asymetrical chuck of shining black material, shot with veins of silver. Water darkened the silk on one side of the harness, spotting the pale blue.

“Oh, my lord! Your harness is getting wet, sir. I don’t want your silks to get ruined on account of us.” Julia pushed the loose hair back into her bun.

“Little human, the dragons existed long before the concept of clothing.” The deep chuckle changed into a full on laugh. “I only wear this as a concession to your queen, so she can hang the medals on something. I rarely fully understand what is going on in her court but I do try to humor her.”

David looked up at Lord Draelach and blurted out a question. “What do you do at the Court? Do you just dance and look fancy?”

Julia clapped her hand over his mouth and bowed her head. “Your lordship, please forgive him! He’s not very well behaved on my account. I don’t discipline him like I should.”

The dragon stopped for a moment, the thick scale ridges along his eyes making him look severe. “The young man would be wise to learn to control his tongue.” He resumed the slow pace that allowed the smaller human legs to keep up with him. “In answer to your question though, I do not merely dance and ‘look fancy’ at court. I act as a go between between the Council of Elders and Her Royal Highness the Queen.”

At the blank look on David’s face, Lord Draelach continued. “It means I settle matters that involve my people and yours. I am also a constant reminder of the peace brokered between humans and dragons. When Her Highness sees me, she knows she has the force of our nation supporting her in her efforts at home and abroad.”

“Pardon my question, my lord, but what are you doing way out here? Our little town is miles from the capital and there’s not even a lord in attendence of the manor.” Julia crossed herself quickly. “Bless his soul, Lord Hector passed on two years ago of a weak heart.”

“That would be the business I am about.” He looked down at her. “The late Lord Hector left no close heirs. The estate has been in the care of the staff in the mean time. The Queen decided that the estate has remained empty too long and has appointed me the new lord of the manor.”

Julia’s eyes went wide. “You’re to be the new lord?” Her words tumbled out in a rush. “Not that it’s a bad thing, my lord.” She stared up at him, word failing.

“Fear not, I won’t be capturing you or any of the other fair maidens in the village. Nor will I be hoarding any gold in the manor. In fact, I’ll spend most of my time at court still.” The lord’s eyes were bright with laughter. “But I will be requiring the services of several good men skilled in husbandry. My larders are far from stocked and if I am to entertain foreign dignitaries, I’d best get started now.”

Thomas peeked from behind Julia’s skirts. “Pa, Julia, tell him about Pa.”

Lord Draelach tilted his head, a chuckle rumbling in his throat. “Do tell, Ms Julia.”

For a moment, she chewed on her lip. “No, I’d hate to bother my lord with such a trivial thing. We’ve already imposed enough on your time. Our home is right at the bottom of the hill and it’s barely raining anymore.”

“Well then, we best talk quickly. So you can finish telling me before we reach your door.” His large green eye winked at her.

“Grandfather was the late lord’s woodsman. Before Father was born, Grandfather met a woman in the woods of Lord Hector’s estate. I never met Grandmother Liev but there are still things said about town of her. Some of them don't make any sense, like fairy tales or something. Lots of people say she was part Elven.” She shook her head. “That’s not the point, I beg your pardon. Father learned everything he could from Grandfather and Grandmother. No one knows the woods here better. He’s got a way with deer and birds, can make them do whatever he wants, if you’re looking for a good man.”

She looked ahead, the house looming on the left. The rain was a mere drizzle by now, beading up on the grass by the road. Beam of sunlight poked through the clouds here and there, turning the droplets into glittering crystals. Julia turned to the boys. “Say your goodbyes to Lord Draelach and go on ahead to the house.”

She watched as the boys bowed to the dragon and ran down the hill. After they had disappeared inside, she gave a low curtsey. “I’m very grateful to you sir. Without your assistance, that would have been a very unpleasant end to our trip.”

“You’re very welcome.” He lowered his head to her level, his massive green eyes peering into hers. “Hm… Very interesting. Very.” With a snort, he lifted his head.

“I have something for you.” The dragon pulled a thick green disc from a pouch on his harness. He carefully placed it in her hands.

She turned it over and over, studying the disc. It was as big as her hand, with rough edges. The color was a deep green, same as the dragon’s body. “My lord, is this one of your scales?” The edges of it made her fingers tingle.

“Indeed. I use them in place of a signet or seal. Give that to your father and tell him to report to the manor in the morning. There is a lot of work to be done and my steward will provide a starting point.” Again he looked directly into Julia’s eyes. “So very curious.”

Julia took a step back. “Sir?”

Lord Draelach backed up, stretching out both his wings with short flaps. “Do come with your father when he reports for assignment. I think you will be very helpful.” He chuckled. “It’s been too long since a Kindred was born.”

Julia stared in confusion as he took to the air, calling down to her. “Never dismiss the old stories, girl. There is something a little more than human about you, I think.”

~~~

I've fifteen seconds from incoherent giggling. I've got to get some sleep.