DREAMS of a CLOUD
Peruse the many random ramblings of a writer-in-training as I build stories and develop my craft.
9 May 2024
“Well, what’s your idea? What do you even want?”
For a long moment, the fae said nothing. Finally, he replied, “A child. Your firstborn.”
It felt like Desiree’s mind had jammed up. “Is… Is that some weird marriage proposal fae use?”
24 April 2024
Come, see Atlantis, and join up in our fight!
Gawk at all our wonders, partake in each delight.
There’s a bit of danger, this I won’t deny,
But ‘tis but a smidgeon. What then is thy reply?
14 February 2024
Isaac flinched and shook his head. But what else could he offer? He took back the paper and quill to write, “What would you want of me?”
They studied him for a time. “What about three moments of your time, picked at our discretion?”
“Or perhaps… your thirst for adventure?” Lena walked up and used Isaac’s chin to turn his head to the side. “Yours is surprisingly powerful, after all.”
13 February 2024
In the same moment, both women shifted. Instead of a frail wisp of a girl, Frieda was now a full-bodied, statuesque woman, even a bit taller than Phillip. Lena was still short, roughly around Isaac’s height, but instead of an old lady she now had youthful even elfin features, with dark hair pulled back in a long braid.
Isaac tried to protest, only to discover he couldn’t make any sound. He could breath just fine, but his voice was just…gone.
8 February 2024
Lena herself had transformed into a nervous-looking woman with a hint of buck teeth. She frowned at Frieda for a moment, then huffed and plopped into a chair, arms folded. “Fine. But if they’re here to arrest us after all, I’m turning them both into frogs.”
29 January 2024
“You were willing to let go of all that long before the princeling ever showed up at your doorstep. You’d already resigned yourself to a short life.” Then the creature smiled far too wide for its face, and with far too many teeth. “No. What I want is far more precious than that. I want your leisure.”
1 May 2023
Fynn called out to his old friend, with just a touch of suggestion laced into the words; he needed David’s help, and on the off chance he was still sore about what happened last time, a little… persuasion could go a long way. “Good day, old friend! How goes the farm?”
To Fynn’s surprise, the magic found now purchase in the young man, sliding right off him like water from a leaf in a rainstorm. The young man turned and gave him a puzzled look. “Do I… know you?”