The Misunderstandings of a Naive Royal
“She walks these hills in a long black veil, visiting ol’ men’s graves at the wind’s wail.”
The men at the bar cackled and hollered at the drunkard’s unintentional rhyme. Or perhaps he finally remembered the sailor shanty he’d been trying to recite all evening.
Lawrence didn’t care which was truth.
Under the flickering yellow glow of the tavern chandeliers, he disappeared in the crowd of pirates and ruffians. A mondegreen if his royal life was a poet’s drama. Tucked in the corner, bathed in shadow, he heard every myth that tickled his fancy. Sirens calling sailors to death, whirlpools rerouting ships, Leviathans emerging from Davey Jones’ locker.
But he’d never heard of a black-veiled woman.
An Extra Something to Spice Up Life
I knocked my head against the window, glaring at the treasonous pear tree. Months of waiting for the foliage to thicken. Days of praying for honeybees to pollinate the teeny blossoms. Wondering if the season was wrong or the heavy downpours too much.
All I wanted was a sweet, juicy pear. Not the canned monstrosities from the local store that Mom bought in bulk. A real pear from a real tree from nature itself.
Not a peep echoed through the house.
Journal of Unraveling Conspiracies
January 9th, 1962
I’m compelled to write my thoughts as it will be the only record of my work. My family has abandoned me; my friends pretend to not know my name. Nevertheless, I must persevere. Time is of the essence, and I can’t stand aside.
The truth must be revealed.
Three months ago, I discovered large amounts of money disappearing from the company books. While it’s not odd for sheet metal and rubber to be purchased, the senders were never medical facilities. And we don’t have a branch in Colorado. I had approached my supervisor with this knowledge, and he’d insisted I was mistaken. My wife wanted me to leave it be, but I couldn’t.
An Undesired Extravagant Christmas
“Where are my dogs, John!”
John rolled his eyes while unpacking a box of plastic corgis with reindeer antlers. The infernal critters took their place in the flower bed, coming to life with barking sounds when he plugged them in. “I think we’ve done enough, babe.”
“Then you haven’t looked across the street,” Marie scolded over her shoulder. Her glittery red heels tapped on the sidewalk as her pampered nose turned up at the grandiloquence of the Kampoons’ front yard. The sun had barely begun to set, yet the street seemed ablaze with red and gold lights dancing along the white-washed columns and walls of their estate.
Hunting for Forbidden Beauty
“There once lived a king with a fabulous kingdom. All he desired was beauty, and so he sought his lands for the prettiest things.”
Summer smacked an obnoxious mosquito, bug guts staining her leggings. Wiping the mark off as best she could, she continued climbing the various boulders that marred the outskirts of Ireland. Golden light highlighted the vibrant green of the leaves and brush. Wildlife scattered with every slam of her boots.
How she hated the outdoors. Hated her parents for month-long camping trips. It was always about the pretty stars and the rushing river. They were ignorant of the bugs and poison ivy. And the bears, humidity, rocks. Basic hygiene. She couldn’t move out soon enough.
Repeating Events for Improved Outcomes
I walked through the blackened forest, heavy clouds guarding the heavens. Light rain pattered my shoulders. Covered in ash, the small cottage exuded foreboding. Yet I didn’t see the aftermath.
I saw the before.
A soothing sense of déjà vu washed over me. My grandparents seemed to stand on the porch, waiting patiently for me to race up the creaky steps. Every winter had been a little different, but the view had never changed. Nestled in the forest, the cottage looked out to the mountain peaks where the sun set every evening.
Temporary Security Shattered by Reality
Why heights?
Marigold swung her leg to the next outcropping of rock. Pebbles collided with her sweaty brow on their way to the bare brush far below. Muscles spent, she reached for the hints of greenery above her head. Slick, squishy. And firmly rooted. Grunts and bruises brought her to the top. Thick fog blanketed the empty expanse.
At least she couldn’t see the ground.
Rising on sore legs, Marigold brushed off her torn skirt. The resulting black streaks reminded her of the soot on her fingers and sleeves. One terror replaced another.
Negative Connotations Behind Accurate Nicknames
“What you gonna do about it, norm?” Caleb laughed, his friends cackling down the hall. He became a blur, running back to his friends and their daily piracy. Yanking wallets and backpacks from terrified teenagers. A couple girls cowered when Laura set their homework ablaze, flames dancing off her fingertips. Terrence duplicated himself, screaming into the ears of a kid with super hearing.
I’d never thought of “norm” as pejorative. Not until it was thrown in my face.
Glued to the floor, I tried to muster the strength I’d had ten seconds ago. The courage to yell “stop.” Like many non-powered people, I’d been ignored throughout middle school. Never bullied, never rewarded. But I knew right and wrong. I knew justice. And now seemed the time to pursue my calling.
Until reality sped in. I had no power, no defence. No real way to stop a runner, pyro, and divider.
Forbidden Past Preserves the Present
“Father, the line’s been broken! Our enemy nears the palace.” Paladin skidded across the ornate tiles, stopping at the foot of the throne. “We need the barrier if we’re to forfend the city.”
The king stared quietly at the chaos beyond the window. Fire filled the streets, shouts echoing to the smoke-filled sky. Yet sorrow didn’t cloud his shimmering blue eyes.
Running footsteps caught up to Paladin. “What are you doing?” Werlic hissed. “We can handle what’s coming.”
“We need the barrier.”
“Fairytales. Our magic is best suited in reality.”
Expensive Appetite for Gratification
She didn’t need an alarm. How could anyone sleep the night before Christmas? Especially when expecting the greatest of gifts. Her brother complained of her gulosity, but what else was the holiday for than asking for the most?
Leaping from her bed and tying a robe around her small frame, Nina escaped her room and ran to the living area. To the sparkling tree surrounded by gift after gift. Large boxes, small bags. The house still slept as she separated out her presents. At this age, dreams of Santa coming down the dirty chimney had faded. Now, she brought her list to the source.
She’d topped the year before, scribbling her want for a laptop, hoverboard, PlayStation, and TV. Her room was ready for the additions, shelves reoriented and desk pushed aside. Excitement bubbled in her chest as she noted the weight and width of each box. It seemed her wishes had been met.