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Daily Deviation
Daily Deviation
August 11, 2014
Faeriefire by Atheshya is, in the suggester's words, "short and (not) sweet high fantasy that reads like a real-world tragedy."
Featured by neurotype-on-discord
Suggested by VFreie
Literature Text
We all hid when the faeries dueled.
You and I were in the closet, wishing to each other half-secretly among the motes that the duels could be rare as dragons, at least. Instead they were only rare as quarter-moons.
Ground liquifies, sometimes, during a duel. The stars brighten and fall faster, leaving holes in the ground and setting forests alight. The sun hides in a bird’s nest, they say.
We did not see when the damage was done. We were accustomed to avoiding to know even the names of those who fought. Our eyes were far from windows.
But duels always ended the day after they began, and we stepped out as if we were free.
Your eyes caught the light first, and when I followed them my air caught in my throat. Like going underwater without the protection of a mermaid.
That day our world was on fire. The glass of the town hall had melted to colorful puddles on the ground. Some houses were gone - some people too, I realized. Survival was as common and unpredictable as trees blooming a week early.
I still do not know the name of the faeries who dueled that day, although both were buried sometime later. But I do know the shape of the town we lost and left behind, and sometimes today I see it in my dreams.
You and I were in the closet, wishing to each other half-secretly among the motes that the duels could be rare as dragons, at least. Instead they were only rare as quarter-moons.
Ground liquifies, sometimes, during a duel. The stars brighten and fall faster, leaving holes in the ground and setting forests alight. The sun hides in a bird’s nest, they say.
We did not see when the damage was done. We were accustomed to avoiding to know even the names of those who fought. Our eyes were far from windows.
But duels always ended the day after they began, and we stepped out as if we were free.
Your eyes caught the light first, and when I followed them my air caught in my throat. Like going underwater without the protection of a mermaid.
That day our world was on fire. The glass of the town hall had melted to colorful puddles on the ground. Some houses were gone - some people too, I realized. Survival was as common and unpredictable as trees blooming a week early.
I still do not know the name of the faeries who dueled that day, although both were buried sometime later. But I do know the shape of the town we lost and left behind, and sometimes today I see it in my dreams.
Literature
Oh Child
your bones are small,
but strong
like your heart,
they've never been broken
oh child,
stay away from the world
oh child,
i hope you never
realize
that dreams only
last for the night
Literature
Bo.
When Lindsay was born, Bo was there. Standing beside her mother, he was the first thing she ever saw. But he was not her father; her father stood on the other side.
Bo was there until the very moment she died.
-
6
-
The sun shone bright through the windows of her pink-laden room. She loved pink. And black.
“Because Bo is black,” she’d told her parents.
Her imaginary friend, they soon concluded.
“Bo is all black,” she described one night as her father tucked her in, “His skin and his hair and everything. He doesn’t talk a lot.”
Her father frowned.
“He sounds scary.”
“He
Literature
fabled life
i.
she talks through her wrinkles,
'i have no desire for food', she says.
i take her plate to the kitchen
noticing how the beetroot shavings bled into the skin of the chicken and brown rice.
it was blood, skin, and bone,
and the rice was a million starlike cells floating between.
this reminds me of my anatomy textbook:
we've been learning what's beneath our skin,
we learned that all cells divide. some cells often don't stop dividing.
other cells divide and stop when they should...
but not my grandmother's.
starlike, they explode, they shatter, they consume
they divide.
ii.
i want to be mad at my grandmother's cells,
but what would that do?
i
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Flash Fiction Month 2014, day 25. Second day in a row I destroyed a town, WHOOPS. Clumsy me...
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Comments40
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A very imaginative piece. It raises some pretty interesting questions, as well: why do these people allow these fairies to destroy their homes? Where do the fairies come from and why? The only constructive criticism I could provide is that some of the sentences/phrases sound awkward, so you may want to read through them again for flow. Other than that, this was a great read. Keep writing!