Saturday, December 8, 2012

Something New? Part 1

When they came for me, I did not scream.

The burly men slipped in through the back gate, and finding no one to block their way, proceeded to my room. I sat by the window, hands folded. They slipped rough rope around my wrists, and pulled me to my feet. When I left, I was able to take only a pack strapped over my shoulders: nothing else.

I could taste the crisp autumn air and shivered in the chill wind. A year ago at this time, I would have been with my family, pulling out the old blankets to use when the evenings got cold. I never would have guessed that, in a year, I'd be leaving my home forever.

In some ways, I was not sorry to see it go.

Hello, readers. We're back, and chock full of new ideas just waiting to jump onto the page. Your turn, Mars!

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Delia's Story, Part 3

The fog around her began to shift and dissipate. As she stood up, the hoofbeats were joined by sleighbells, and the grayness of the fog turned white.
     White as snow.
     No longer was she in the quiet suburban town with her square white house. No longer was she in the apple-crisp autumn she had experienced only moments before. She stood between snow-covered trees, looking out onto a white expanse leading to a distant town. Children played in the snow, and the fields were crisscrossed with sleigh tracks.
    Shaking off a minor headache - a side effect of the jump - she set off toward town. She had an appointment to keep.

Friday, March 9, 2012


Delia tried to walk with purpose, tried to walk tall. But her suitcase was heavy, and each time she took a step it would knock painfully against her knees and her posture would deflate. She sighed with resignation and hugged the case to her chest, taking broad and unflattering steps. At least she would not be injured walking like this. Where was she anyways? She could barely see the green walk beneath her, for the misty fog billowed in more and more, until her clothes were soaked and her hair damp and obscuring her vision. Delia stopped walking, plopped down on the ground, sitting on her suitcase. She put her head in her hands and felt the cold against her skin, the light tingle.
Then she heard the heavy sound of hoofbeats growing near.

Thursday, March 1, 2012

A New Story

Mars and I have decided to begin a new tale. Let's see where this one goes...

Delia grasped the worn handle of her suitcase. The clunky bag seemed heavier each time she used it, as though she had packed up all of her memories between the neatly folded socks. Looking out into the foggy street, she lifted the bag and began away from the small white house she had called home for the past few months. She had not gotten too attached to the place. She had learned that it was easier that way. The large brown suitcase did not hold too many memories from this gray street. Tucking her bangs behind her ears and squaring her shoulders, she began down the street alone. She was alone so often, now. That was part of why she was leaving. When she reached the end of the street, the fog seemed to swallow her up, and she disappeared into the gray.