DREAMS of a CLOUD
Peruse the many random ramblings of a writer-in-training as I build stories and develop my craft.
12 April 2023
But here, they were not content to keep to the shadows, to whisper into the ears of men. No, here, they stalked the realm in physical form., giant horned beings of ash and flame. Few knew they’d ever had a master, and none but them knew if they served another after his death, or if they worked towards their own inscrutable ends.
25 September 2022
“The cat came back, the very next day.
The cat came back; she thought he was a goner.
But the cat came back; he just wouldn’t stay away.”
The older woman seated on the couch stood and whirled to look at the man who’d been singing. He leaned against the doorframe, one arm folded, while in his other hand he juggled a single knife. He had dark hair and wore a black duster over a similarly dark outfit.
“Who, who are you?” the woman squeaked.
21 September 2022
They were lovers, once, the Phoenix and the Conqueror, back when they were still human. Mortal. Back before everything around her burned, back when he was still capable of feeling. When they’d dared to dream of robbing death.
And then they did it. And everything went wrong.
20 September 2022
She looked up at the black fortress before her, scythe resting on her shoulders. It had been grand, once; a symbol of strength, or fear, depending on who you were. She’d been, once, exactly a century ago. Banners had fluttered in the breeze, and people had bustled about. Merchants, peasants, but mostly soldiers, doomed to die in a pointless war.
Now, though, it was empty. No more banners. No more crowds. No more soldiers. Just black walls, wreathed in shadows and silence.