invitation (300)

invitations. she declares it to be an art, in a world full of electricity which can send a request or suggestion to the intended recipient within seconds. she makes it a point to never use electric invitations, and scorns having to click yes instead of sending back the reply card. in a way she gets it,… Continue reading invitation (300)

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comprehension (300)

she studies. at first it's one book, trying to understand how the world works. she'd been told this one book would help in her search for knowledge, but all it does is raise further questions. she ruffles the pages, trying to estimate how many hundred more she should drag her heels through before she finishes… Continue reading comprehension (300)

inventing adventure (300)

she wanted to know about my purpose. how, she implored, had i found it so young? in her world, purpose was a thing you found after you'd done a few years' sensible work, maybe some careful mapping out. she was a scheduler, a planner, and she didn't understand my methods - or my madness. i crafted… Continue reading inventing adventure (300)

elixir (300)

widdershins, came the voice from behind me, somewhere to my right. i stirred, raising my head, murmuring the incantation slower than before. turn to the voice, i could not. i could not look to her, gage a reaction or try to read her expression. she was coaching me, this elixir normally beyond my skills. it had… Continue reading elixir (300)

creation of an isolation (300)

lay down your weary head and sleep. tonight is the night that the sleeping draft works its way through your veins, bringing you out of your waking troubles. (tomorrow is the day it will lift, leaving you too foggy to contemplate issues anew) flutter through the days in a haze of consciousness, drifting through meetings on… Continue reading creation of an isolation (300)

reflective (300)

it's cold, almost bone-rattling cold and the rain hammers the windows, streaking down against a backdrop of flat gray skies. a tiny space heater does nothing to take away the chill of the overly-large office; the patchwork blanket i keep tucked under the desk does nothing to brighten the cream-and-white room. it is sunday morning, and… Continue reading reflective (300)