Tale #124: A Dream Upon The Pyre

and through the fire
she will come for me
slowly, safely, surely

to snatch me up
out of the flames
these townsfolk have set for me

and take me away
to a heaven
free from hate

and from these men
and women
made alike in their fear

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Notes:

1. Written in February 2020

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Tale #123: (fragment)

“…and when the wolf clamped its jaws around my the leg and began to drag me back through the snow, I didn’t struggle, nor did I scream. I simply closed my eyes and hoped, prayed, that its home would be better than my own.”

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Notes:

1. Written in February 2020

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Tale #122: The Dogs

There’s a reason I don’t go out there on nights like these.

Listen! You can hear them, can’t you? Streaming down from the hills and out of the woods, running through the streets, the dirty dogs, those mongrel wolves. A great big howling pack of them, chasing the foxes and the sheep, the chickens and rabbits. The cats and the crows. The fearless, the fearful.

And on moonlit nights like tonight, my sister runs with them and they do as she says.

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Notes:

1. Written in February 2020

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Tale #121: Between The Hills, Beyond The Waves

The wind blew through the town and across the beach with such ferocity that where it met the sea the waves broke backwards, the spume sparkling in the air as it flew out towards wherever it was the waves themselves were born.

Whenever we left the safety of our houses we chained ourselves to the railings, so even when the wind blew us off our feet we would not be blown out to sea with the spume, would not be sucked beneath the waves, down into the depths, down there, where the mermaids that birthed us still circled and swam, still sighed, still sang.

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Notes:

1. Written in February 2020

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If you like the things you've read here please consider subscribing to my patreon. Subscribers get not just early access to content and also the occasional gift, but also my eternal gratitude. Which I'm not sure is very useful, but is certainly very real. Thank you.

Tale #120: While The Peasants Tended Their Trees

Once upon a time a king and queen lived in their castle, and tended to their selves, while in their gardens the peasants slept in tents, and tended to their trees.

In the spring an ill wind blew, and the castle closed its gate, and while those within the castle waited quietly until it had passed, those outside were left to fend for themselves.

Autumn came, and the fruit fell from those forgotten trees. In the coming weeks it rotted in the sun, until the whole land choked beneath the stench of putrefaction. But by then there were none to smell it, and all was silent, except for the rustling of the wind in the leaves.

Or so the story goes.

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Notes:

1. Written in March 2020

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If you like the things you've read here please consider subscribing to my patreon. Subscribers get not just early access to content and also the occasional gift, but also my eternal gratitude. Which I'm not sure is very useful, but is certainly very real. Thank you.