Snippets and Shorter Stories Floating on Mirror Lake

Day Fourteen: Eric is painting the tree! It looks awesome. I know this one is a little late. Eric always uses the computer. I love how calm the water is in this picture. It reminds me of waking up in Lake Powell. The still water with barely a ripple reflecting the sky is one of my favorite memories.

Riel the Wanderer

"So, you have come to hear her story have you? Well then, lets start at the beginning. The water had a calming effect her. Throughout her life water was her only solitude, especially Mirror Lake. It was her parents who figured out it was the only way to calm her constant crying. They would put her in a wooden dinghy and let it drift into the middle of the lake, carefully tied on with a strong rope that could be used to pull her back when she needed to be fed. She spent most of her childhood on it near Mirror Lake. This was the first clue that led the travelers to realize that she was a psychic."

"Her powers had awoken almost immediately, a manifestation of her power. But, oh how they pitied the child. What was a cruel curse at the moment would only become a heavy to bear gift. She would have no friends and constantly be plagued by her inability to be around people. Especially as an infant, she was confused, scared, and unable to understand why her thoughts were drowned out by others, why the emotions of others became hers. So much pain, suffering, and sorrow filled her till she could bear it no more."

"She will be powerful," The travelers had said, "but greatly troubled."

"And they were right. The world would remember her name. Riel. In years to come she would save an entire species, lose that which she wanted most, and love only one man. But for now, my great grandmother was barely a few months old, calmly floating in a small boat, away from the pain and suffering of her parents and the grim future."

Eroding Snippets and Shorter Stories

Day Thirteen: I love looking at our new pretty, green wall. I can't wait until Eric paints on the tree and birds. Today is my niece's one year birthday. That is crazy to me. I have been around for her whole life. I don't know whether this next picture is a carving someone did or if it was photoshopped but I don't care. This would be awesome to see, especially in Europe. Seems like a God or Titan from forgotten days just waiting to emerge.

The Stone Magma Titan

He was nearly free, the wretched rock that encased him was nearly gone. Water and wind had made steadily chipped and eroded it away. They had chosen well, his fire power couldn’t destroy rock. His time for revenge was soon at hand. He could see his freedom, just a few more years. He could taste his captors blood, hear their screams of pain, smell their burning flesh being consumed. Rogerick would have smiled if his mouth could move. Soon, though, soon.

Snippets and Shorter Stories Finds the Tower

Day Twelve: Our project is moving along nicely. Eric has traced the tree and we have the paint all ready. Only problem is the roller was missing a key component. So he can't paint until we get that part. So lame. On a side note: I hope that this next picture is a real place. It looks gorgeous with the tower in the middle of a lake. So intriguing.

The Tear Sphere

“That’s where we need to go? That tiny tower is where the sphere has been for the past 300 years? Is this a joke?” Gwen scoffed, brushing aside the tree branches to get a better look at their destination. The four of them stood on the edge of the forest, gazing at the medieval tower situated in the middle of a green lake.

Raven stared at her with his black eyes. “Yes, Gwen, that is where we need to go, but maybe you should double-check the water if you think it is going to be easy.”

Gwen stuck her tongue out at him, gave Haren and Terren a pointed look, and edged closer to the green-blue water. It was eerily calm and still, as though nothing lived in it or touched its surface. Despite her earlier dismissal of the small lake, the closer she got the more unease she felt. Something wasn’t right about it, she just didn’t know what. When she got within a few feet of the water’s edge, Raven told her to stop. The setting sun elongated her shadow out into the water, though surprisingly the water seemed unaffected by the sun. Gwen, frowned thinking that strange that nothing shimmered or reflected off it’s surface. Muttering to herself, Gwen leaned forward to get a closer look and found herself staring into the eyes of some creature. It’s two crimson circles quickly joined by another, and another, and another, until she could see dozens of the floating twin orbs. With a shriek she scrambled back to Raven and the others, shivering uncontrollably.  

“Oh good, Gwen finally understands how hard it is going to be to cross the lake, retrieve the Tear Sphere, and return safely. Should be fun. Any ideas?” Raven’s tone suggested he wasn’t looking for an answer, which was good, because nobody had one for him.  “No? Well, then I guess we should camp the night, think on it, and wake at first light to discuss the matter. All in favor?” Three hands lifted up, and the group quickly, set up camp, lighting a fire and cooking a big dinner. They got little sleep, each group member deep in thought, and wary that whatever was in the lake, would come out to greet them.

Snippets and Shorter Stories Speaks to Our Mind

Day Eleven: It has turned bitingly cold outside!  On the plus side, Eric and I are painting one of our walls in the apartment.  We have a pretty green color to be a solid background, then Eric is going to paint a simple tree on one side and cute little birds chilling in it.  I am excited! It is really going to make the apartment more livable. When was the last time you painted?

Red in the Blue Ocean

Mira closed her eyes and relaxed her body, letting it sway with the ocean. Her tears barely noticeable before they mixed with the salty liquid. She felt a presence pushing through the water toward her. Peeking out of one eye she watched the wayrus approach her slowly, gliding forward until its great black eye was level with her body. Mira gazed, mesmerized at her own reflection. Bitterly, she noted how her flowing, short, red hair sharply contrasted with the different shades of the blue ocean. The great mammal blinked and, in a soft whisper, spoke in her mind. Why are you crying, Mira, Daughter of the great Water God, Sapphira?  

Snippets and Shorter Stories Caught in a Fog

Day Ten: November is already a third over. Another week of school and work for me. Sometimes, I feel a pull from nature, beckoning me to just forget all I have to do and run away. As I get closer and closer to graduating, the pull gets gradually stronger. Senioritis is real. One and a half more semesters!

The Fog in the Woods

A great wanderlust took hold of him like an invisible thread pulled him from the house into the open woods. Grabbing his grandmother’s blanket Sam pushed the front door open. Mopsy barked enthusiastically, following his friend and master out of the stuffy house. At first Sam moved jerkily, like a wooden puppet in the hands of a master puppeteer warming up his joints. After passing the mailbox though he broke into a fluid run following the well-worn path between the orchard and forest. A foggy haze blanketed the air, dulling the sun and his mother’s frantic call for him to return.

Follow Snippets and Shorter Stories Every Day

  Day Nine: This incredible picture is someone's art piece. They made it entirely out of used tires. I think the juxtaposition between the smooth parts and the different tire treads gives it life. It just begs to be in a story. I created this next story with a certain Chinese concept in mind.

Night Follows Day

   People believe that the rotation of the earth brings the day and night to the planet. They are wrong. Two great beasts continuously walk the earth, clothed in dark and light. They are Karno and Ornak. Across the earth, eternally ushering in the night and day. They are always chased by and chasing each other; never meeting, continuously circling each other. They will never have any friends for mortals can't see him.  Although, now that Karno thought about it, there had been one time when he could have sworn a child, no older than two, had seen him.  She had been playing in a beautiful, grassy meadow, her blond hair in pigtails, when Karno had walked across the meadow, shadow of night following him like a blanket dragging on the ground. She had stopped playing with her dolls, looked in his direction, laughed in delight, and pointed at him. At first Karno assumed she could only see the rising shadow slowly creeping toward her, but when he had passed her, she had looked up at him and met his black eyes. Chills ran through his body. He continued walking though for the first time in thousands of years, he wished to stop for a moment. A few years later he heard tales that a child claimed to have seen a Simba Nyeusi. Black Lion. She had seen him. Karno raised his head a little higher, shook his shadowy mane, and smiled.

Snippets and Shorter Stories Changes its Tail

 Day Eight: It is a chilly, autumn day, far different from the wonderful, warm weather of summer, but don't let that discourage you. Change has always been a constant in life. From the moment we enter this world, our bodies, thoughts, wants, wishes, fears, joys, etc have been constantly changing and evolving. Sometimes it is fun to go back and see how you have changed over the years. This next snippet deals with the ever popular mermaids. However, it deals with the incredible change that occurs on an island inhabited by humans. I think quite a few people would move to this island if they could.

Mermaid Isle

My old, wrinkled hands, like dried up prunes, shook as I tried to peel potatoes for dinner. I sighed. The Mermaid Moon couldn’t come soon enough for me. Something bright caught my eyes, and I watched my granddaughter run up the front steps in her yellow sundress. Mayla burst through the front doors screaming something that was probably grandmother but sounded like a dull clang through water to my ears. I turned toward the sound to see her smiling at me, her white teeth contrast against her pale skin and sunflower dress. I tried to smile back, suddenly conscious of my lack of teeth.  Mayla scoffed at my shoddy attempt at peeling shooing me away.  I think she might have said the words: nap, last day, relax, and love. I sighed and shuffled over to the couch, cursing my stiff legs.  I paused and realized that soon I wouldn’t have legs. Smiling slightly, I laid down and was soon snoring lightly.   I woke some time later to gentle shaking.  My daughter, Shanna, peered down at me, blurry and dark in the dimming light.  I read her lips, “It’s time.” She helped me to my feet and we walked to the bedroom.  She helped me put on a light blue, shimmery, transparent dress over a white slip. She let my white hair flow free and brushed all the tangles out.  No shoes, of course. My only son, Dax, and second daughter, Farra, entered the room and greeted me. I think I might have missed some questions so I just smiled and nodded. Then Dax handed me a necklace. It was a infinity symbol with three jewels: an emerald, a  sapphire, and a ruby. Patting his hand fondly, I allowed Farra to put it around my neck.  Taking one last look around my room of ninety years, I nodded and the four of us slowly walked down to the ocean.  Lanterns and torches lit our way. The smell of burning wood and incense was strong enough even my nose could smell it. Lightening bugs and fireflies drifted in and out, randomly appearing and disappearing. The dirt below my feet had been carefully kept free of rocks and the sound of the waves crashing on the beach grew louder as we neared the edge of the island. The whole town had gathered on the sandy shores, chatting pleasantly and eating fresh fruit, mashed potatoes, and grilled fish. When they saw us they began to cheer and clap. My daughter-and-sons-in-law, plus my seven grandchildren, including Mayla, ran up to us placing flowers on our necks.  They placed only one flower necklace on me. They were deep blue with white on the tips; the Ocean Wave Flower that only grew on the sides of the cliff and was only picked for this occasion. 

I spent the next hour―or was it three?―shaking hands, receiving congratulations, and nibbling my last meal. Finally, though the hour had come. I moved to the water’s edge and everyone drew away. I breathed in the salty, sea air and looked back at Mermaid Isle one last time. Turning back, I took a shaky step into the oncoming wave. It was warm and as the warmth flowed up my leg I took another, more solid, step forward. Lifting up my dress and gazing up at the luminous Mermaid Moon, I smiled.

 
When the water hit my knees I looked at my hands.  Shaky, wrinkled hands were now smooth and firm. My eyesight returned along with all my other senses. The wind blew my hair and I saw that it had returned to the shimmery black it had been in my youth. The tan was gone from my skin and had become the pearly white that mermaids had. My strength returned and I filled my lungs with air for the last time. Leaping forward into the water, I splashed with my light blue tail once and disappeared into the clear deep.

Scales, Snippets, and Shorter Stories

Here we go, a fantasy picture. I love dragons. Sometimes, there is a deep ache in my heart that I know can only be filled with a creature of scales, wings, claws, and teeth. This is as close as I get unless science gets their act together. What would you name your dragon if you had one?

The Impossible Dragon

Asha tried to get through, she really did, but everyone was bigger than her, and she got pushed out of the circle. She worked her way around the throng of kids, all clambering to get the best dragon, trying to find an opening. Finally, she saw an opening on her third way around. Maybe she would get a good dragon after all! However, as she pushed her way through she realized the opening was because all the dragons were taken.

Tears sprang to her eyes, she was the only one without a dragon. Maybe she didn’t belong here after all. Some eggs must not have survived the winter. Asha sank to the ground and wrapped her arms around her knees. She wasn’t a dragon tamer. Everyone cleared away, showing off their new dragons to family and friends, boasting that theirs was the best. Headmistress Vera saw Asha sitting in the middle of the hatching field and winced, her gray eyes sorrowful as they met wet black ones.

Suddenly, Asha felt something nuzzle her leg and looked down at the fiery, crimson body of a scaly fire dragon. Horrified, Asha slid away from it. It shuffled over to her, wobbly and unsteady. She heard the headmistress gasp and shout something. Soon, all the Master dragon tamers thundered down the steps and over to her, still edging away from the unwanted creature. Muttering and whispering spread like wildfire.

“A fire dragon!”

“...Dangerous…”

“Can you believe it?”

“I thought we had successfully unbred those…”

“...Not for a hundred years…”

“...Unstable, untamable…”

As it happened, Asha eventually backed into a rock and since she had no where else to go,the scarlet dragon caught up to her. It crawled on her lap, yawned to show it was hungry, and looked her straight in the eyes.  Black met black and something sparked to life inside Asha. Fyra. Her name is Fyra. Her body felt calm and oddly whole, as if a fire had been lit in a cold hearth. Then it was gone. Rough hands grabbed her frail dragon and carried it away.

Crying out, Asha scrambled to her feet and ran after the swiftly retreating figure. “Where are you going with Fyra? Bring her back, she’s mine!”

Startled, Master Brynn turned and faced the white haired child scowling up at him. Asha snatched the tiny creature from Master Brynn’s hands and held Fyra under her belly. Asha stroked the little body from head to tail, comforting her cries. Something flashed in Master Brynn’s eyes, and, as understanding hit him, he gestured to the other masters to gather around the bonded girl and dragon. Then they escorted Asha up the worn, stone steps to the Meeting Room.

Join the 'Snippets and Shorter Stories' Pack!

      Day Six:  Still no snow. Husband and I got haircuts yesterday, along with a surprise perm for me...it is still to early to tell how I feel about it.  There has always been something so hypnotic about a pack of wolves prowling the forest. The efficient, graceful way they move as one continues to astound me. I always wondered why Little Red Riding Hood didn't join them.  Her life would have been much more interesting...right? 

Control of the Pack

Her ruby cloak turned onyx. Nails and fangs grew and sharpened into points. She crouched and howled, challenging the alpha wolf, who answered her call.  They circled each other, eyes met, never faltering.  Each step was silent and precise as if the two combatants were stalking their prey. The great, coal-black alpha mis-stepped and snapped a branch—Riding Hood leaped, claws extended!

Snowy Day for Snippets and Shorter Stories

Day 5: Every morning when I wake up, I check to make sure there isn't snow on the ground. There is something wonderful about a fresh blanket of snow that evens out the world. It covers everything, providing tantalizing hints at what is hidden beneath the frozen water. Snow can make the ugly, beautiful. The tiny glints, like millions of diamonds, make the world seem a very rich place. You can see where you have come from and where children have played. Don't you just love it?

The Father of Time and Space

     It was time to see if the legends were true. Terreth set the twelve candles around her in a circle as delicate snowflakes fell from the sky. Then she lit them and chanted the ancient words passed down to her by her Great, Great Grandfather the Seer. She felt a warm breeze spiral up her body, making her look up into the swirling clouds. Then it was gone and when Terreth dropped her gaze, a great black wolf with tan legs stood before her, its ears up and focused on her. 

At first, Terreth was disappointed, then she looked a bit closer. He looked old. Old down to his very bones though only the tip of his muzzle was white. His fur shone from the melted snowflakes falling like feathers.

     And his eyes. Oh, his coal-black eyes. They saw what was hidden or secret. Terreth could see the future, past, present of people and worlds ticking gently by. The beginnings and endings of objects, empires, and galaxies intertwined with Time, at times as strong as the thickest chain and other times as frail as a puff of smoke. Her call had been answered. The Father of Time and Space had come to answer all the deepest questions of her soul. Terreth breathed in sharply through her tears and opened her mouth to ask the most important question of all.