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Crows Take Care Of Crows
I pressed my toes into the damp earth and leaned back, letting the sun bathe my pale face. Blue eyes—Crow eyes—can’t handle the bright sun. I closed them and watched the back of my eyelids turn the color of pomegranate. Sunflakes settled all around me, and a river of deep green slid beneath the trees. This is where I come to think. Somewhere in the lush canopy above, a mourning dove cried. This will ruin your life, Mara. I rubbed my stomach, which wouldn’t be flat anymore by winter. I wanted to be the first of five to finish high school. Those plans died in the back seat of Tim’s…
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Our Sally Is Gone
Rural USA, December 21, 1927 Sally May climbed the carved granite steps, careful not to slip on the damp stone. The cave walls wept, and cool drops fell from the ceiling. She could already hear her parents scolding her. They might even send her to bed without supper. Daddy would say, “Sarah, how many times have we told you? Don’t go wanderin’ like that.” Momma would tell her, “Go on to bed, Sally.” In the thirteen years since momma birthed her, they still couldn’t agree on the name. She loved the way grandma said her name with that drawl. SallaMay. Skeletal trees scratched at the cave’s mouth, as if trying…
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In a Forest of Winter Enchantment: A Special Fiction Piece by The Modern Merlin
Good afternoon and Frohes Muttersnacht to you all! For those who don’t know, Mother’s Night is celebrated the night before Yule (the Winter Solstice) in many traditional Germanic customs. Not only are our earthly and ancestral mothers honored, but also the mother goddesses. This part of my Winter holiday celebration is when I switch into a more ancestry-based practice, incorporating various Celtic, Germanic and Anglo-Saxon beliefs concerning the winter solstice tradition. All this, while still honoring Saturnalia, which in essence welcomes in “Jack Frost” or “Old Man Winter” as he is now called. This fiction piece is inspired by the energy of Mother’s Night, and is in celebration of all mothers out…
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Black & Blue Friday
Black & Blue Friday by Weyland Smith Weyland and Sparkle enter the store. It’s packed with shoppers. Sparkle halts, stares, and jabs Wey with an elbow. “Lookit the guy with the horns!” Weyland grins. “Lord Cernunnos!” He bows. “Wey, please, no salutations–you’ll attract attention.” Sparkle looks around them. Nobody else seems to find a big furry guy with a pair of horns and a snout out of the ordinary. “How can you walk around looking like that?” “Only believers can see me.” He scans the crowd. “Hey, have you guys seen Jesus? We got separated and I can’t find him anywhere.” Sparkle blinks. “You know Jesus?” “Oh, sure. We call know…
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Cat’s in the Crisper
Cat’s in the Crisper by Weyland Smith Syn flew back from the Halloween Convention in Massachusetts straight to Mom’s apartment. She’d been watching Syn’s old cat, Midnight, while she was gone, and Syn was anxious to retrieve him. Mom’s words of greeting were, “The cat’s in the crisper.” It took Syn a second tocatchon: “What?” “Your cat. He didn’t wake up yesterday. I didn’t want to spoil your party, so I put him in the freezer until you got back.” “Oh.” “Can you take him tonight? He’s kind of creeping me out there in the fridge next to my food.” “Uh, sure.” Syn…
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From the minds of Aeor, a Series of Shorts
Karma Kamara “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,” she said as she snapped the book closed. “Not much else could be worse than this, if you ask me.” She put her weathered copy of A Tale of Two Cities down on the cot beside her, a small cloud of dust puffing out around it. It was the only thing she had now. Not a smartphone, her laptop, her closetful of clothes; nothing. Everything here was dusty and dirty. What more could you expect from an abandoned building? She was too scared to clean, though, to be honest. If she cleaned, someone might notice…
