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Posts Tagged ‘fantasy’

I confess; I believe the real problem with my childhood is that I lived in a fantasy world.

When I got older, I searched for enlightenment.

Along with enlightenment came an intense sense of disillusionment.

No one warned me that enlightenment would cause my fantasy world to dissolve into chaos.

Enlightenment is destructive.  It makes you take a look at the world as it really is.  I didn’t like what I was seeing.  People whom I adored were not who I’d envisioned – they had faults – perfect faults – faults I’d over-looked, faults I’d blinded myself to. I became very angry, disillusioned and broken. (more…)

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“When the gruesome wind howls in the darkness and claws with destructive fingers at your barriers, you will be tempted to curl up into a ball and hide.  You may feel more inclined to seek a dark place to hide away and to think deep thoughts or to nurse an emotional wound.  It may seem like the natural thing to do.  It may even seem like the safest thing to do,” the demonic entity taunted.  “But in the end, these things will drive you to madness and I will win!”

“You have already won,” she conceded.

There was a certain acceptance and graciousness in the voice of the woman. Her surrender infuriated the entity. (more…)

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Vultures

Vultures – Chapter 2

Vultures – Chapter 3

Vesta

Vesta wandered along the creek and wove amongst budding trees and bush in search of the red willow her ‘ami,’ had sent her for.

Once boiled with water and ingested, the red bark of willow became a remedy which would lower fever and reduce pain; a much needed medicine at this time of year when the weather was unpredictably hot or cold.

Vesta noticed the creek started to bend just farther east from where she stood. Beyond the bend, an alcove would shelter her from a cool spring breeze that blew through this shaded area of burly twisted tree trunks.  There a few feet beyond that bend lay a meadow surrounded by thick bush and willow tall enough to block any wayward wind.  Vesta stepped briskly toward the bend up ahead, eager to shake loose her brown woolen cape and carefully coiffed hair. How she looked forward to these rare moments of freedom away from the confines of the community where she felt like such a hostage.  Out of mortal fear, she’d been forced to camouflage herself amongst them – those she described as, ‘murderous vultures.’  She deliberately dressed in dowdy colors like they did; browns, grays and blacks were colors that more often than not kept one unnoticed among the colonies vultures.  Still, she liked ‘tiny pretty things’ and would don a small sparkly necklace or pin that could be easily covered if necessary when prying eyes cast their umbrous  glances in her direction. (more…)

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