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Diamonds Under the Dirt Ch1The Need
Nourishing sunlight boiled the skin on the back of the king's neck, patiently cooking it to an eventual hearty red. He knelt in a barren field at the centre of a worried gathering, his knees digging into the dirt under the pressure of his body weight. Of middling age and brown in colour and disposition, King Alsofir was generally considered an aggressive, if deep-thinking, ruler. He grasped a handful of dirt in one hand, staring it down as though it were a stubborn opponent in a game of chess.
It was a sickly combination of white and grey, hard and dry, and as he picked it apart to nothing, he found the dessicated corpse of a worm. "And you say it has been such throughout the land?" he asked or the gathered farmers.
The nearest, a gangly man with ginger whiskers, grunted affirmation. "Nothing will grow. My cows have begun to starve."
"Aye, and mine as well."
Similar comments rose up, until the king held u
LithiumA single trickling rain drop
Like gossamer silk strands
Gliding along my third eye
Whispers wind's secret caress
I exhale. Lungs releasing-
Pressing translucent memories;
Fragment of a fragment
As water kisses rose petal,
Drifting down stream's curtain
Pretty little curtain.
Where the wizard lies.
He smiles up at me
With his monocled brow-
Sipping on warm tea
And fingers quacking casually
To the rhythm of his notes
This is a safe-zone. Free-zone.
Innocent eyes sparkle,
Imploring it to be true. I breathe.
Red Letter Day - Prologue
So here I am, writing.
I’m writing, I’m writing – just as you told me to.
I’m writing, I’m writing, I’m writing.
Have you ever noticed that when the sun goes down, this flat changes? It does. The walls are white during the day and lingering brown at night. During the day, I’m with you and the light from outside paints the walls that heavenly color. But when that sun goes down, the demons wake and I’m alone again, even though you’re just a room away.
Somehow it seems less threatening tonight, and I think it’s because you’ve given me an assignment to try and fight off the darkness. You gave me a stack of papers and a pen and told me to write everything that comes to mind.
It’s a strange feeling to have complete freedom. These empty pages are mine to do whatever I please – I could even wipe my ass with them – but they’re also terribly intimidating. The blank page has always been a nemesis of man. It&
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