Tale #130: On Bluebeard (excerpt)

And I wonder, I always wonder, what excuse did Bluebeard give that first time, to his first wife. What justifications did he make, to her, to himself. For he had no secrets in his chamber then, had no reason to hide anything so enticingly behind locked doors and furtive promises…

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Notes:

1. Written on 20th July, 2020

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Tale #125: Reflections Of A Pale Moon

The Goddess of the Countless Isles was sleeping in one of her many palaces of grace and splendour when she was troubled by a bad dream.

She saw the seas beneath a pale winter moon, frozen so thickly the infinite islands of her domain were joined together as one by the undulating ice. As unsettling as this loss of complexity and separation was, what truly upset her was the way the ice, so pure and clear, reflected the world as perfectly as a mirror.

As the Goddess in her dream walked upon a frozen wave, her footsteps met their own reflection, and another pale moon cast light upon her from below to match that which bathed her from above. It was as if there was no difference between heaven and hell, that each contained the entirety of the other, that all there was was what we already had.

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Notes:

1. Written in December 2019

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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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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.

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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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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.

(Ko-fi contributors probably only get the gratitude I'm afraid, but please get in touch if you want more).

Thank you!