Vision blursThe hardest part about being away from home is not knowing where you are.
The hive was a familiar place, easy to navigate despite the twist and turns. It was warm, breezes flitting through open windows and various nooks and crannies. There were people there. People she had known all of her life. They had been family, though the term was tenuous. Co-workers was better suited. Co-workers bound by blood and obligations. A hive cannot work unless everyone works.
It's times like this that the remembrance makes her vision blur. Her eyes are clouded by something and she pushes up her glasses so no one can see. 'Wide rim, bug eyes are in style,' she reminds herself, trying to refocus. 'Aren't I lucky?'
The world up here is not so easy to manage. It is without the high winds she can no longer find her way through, but there are cracks. There are indents. Things come suddenly and it's hard to manage when you are
The Widow Nadasdy“I was married once.” Her voice is a low hum and she is content to sit playing with the fiery tips of her hair. She is freshly showered all the carnage is behind her. “It wasn’t my choice. Very little was actually my choice back then. You know how it was for women back then. It didn’t matter what I had to offer as a person or what I wanted, it was about family connections. Social standing and social bettering. You know. Politics.”
She is silent for a moment. “His name was Ferenc. Ferenc Nadasdy. I didn’t love him. I don’t think I can love anyone, but we were good for each other. He wasn’t very smart, but I am. I handled everything, and he went to war and made us all proud. I learned a lot from him. Being married to him kept me safe.”
“He never knew.” She gestures to a spot of blood on the towel. &
Camaraderie behind closed doorsNo matter how many panic attacks she had, it was still horrifying.
Leaving the room in it's current state of chaos had been difficult, and now Lenore feared she had created a bigger scene than Stella and April could have ever, and now everyone was sitting around the table, not talking about Stella and her many grievous faults anymore, but Lenore and her sudden outburst. It certainly didn't help. All Lenore had ever wanted from life was to be normal, and she had been doing a wonderful job faking it until she made it, but all that progress had been undone now. Not even five minutes to ruin months and months of her efforts.
Perhaps April was right. Stella ruins everything for everyone, and everyone but Stella has to deal with the consequences.
She tried to breathe deep and focus on that, but a voice called out, "Lenore? Lenore, where are you?" Despite her panic, she recognized April's voice and thought of what Stella had said about
Peasants can't take directionHere’s a scenario for you. You are in my employment. In return for food and shelter from the dangerous times, I want my homes to be clean, I need food prepared, clothes need to be handled, just housework. I’m not asking you to do anything too complicated. If anything, I’m doing all the complicated work. I’ll handle the finances, and keep the country safe. You just keep the floor under my feet clean, and I will handle this for you.
This isn’t revolutionary, but you don’t seem to understand why I’m calling you to the window. It’s dusty. ”But I just cleaned it.” You protest.
Honey, if its dusty, you didn’t do a good job. This is a warning.
God help you if you steal. What is it? You wanted this coin? Am I not paying you? Did you forget that? Do you think your meals and clothes and
Eyelash WishThere is an eyelash on the girls cheek.
She’s dead now, more blood on the outside then on the inside. Erzsebet looks on, like she always does. She will be branded a necrophiliac in later years because she does not mind the presence of dead things. She’s constantly standing over the bodies, half wondering if the girl will get up and continue her chores, half wondering if all life must end. She doesn’t have sex with the bodies - that would be disgusting - she just likes to look. It makes her feel like God, who gives and takes away.
Reaching down, she touches the girls cold face, the eyelash on her finger now. In a motion, the finger is at her lips and she blows - a wish.
2012 I began 2012 alone and as a pushover, but this was a year of discovery and self improvement. I entered the year burdened with the emotional baggage of 2011, and I had to find a way to handle it. Winter has always been a difficult season for me. The cold brings snow and beauty, in the vast white expanse I tend to feel so small and alone. Sometimes I can’t cope with that. I returned to school for the spring semester and the depression sat so heavy on me. I couldn’t cope with a lot of things I was going through. I couldn’t handle feeling so alone, unwanted and worthless.
I don’t know if I hit rock bottom, but I know I climbed up. I made changes. I started forcing myself to interact with people and stop being such an introvert. I started feeling better than I had in a long time. Everything felt light somehow, as if I was cured, and I would begin l
The TowerCountess Erzsebet Bathory looked out the small opening in the wall. It was hard to see what lay ahead of her as it was dark. Unsatisfied, she sat down, avoiding looking in the mirror. The aristocrat considered writing a letter that would never be sent, but decided against it. She had grown accustomed to sitting in silence, occasionally broken by the guards conversation, or an unearthly visitor, and doing nothing.
She had been in her tower for three years they told her. She had no choice but to believe them. How else could she measure time?
Moving across the room, she avoided the mirror. Although she had draped something over it long ago, there was still that temptation. She didn't want to know how old she looked now, having not been able to 'treat' herself in years. Even now, her vanity was present, still commanding her. She had put deep thought into giving a full confession, but the cons outweighed the pro
Aidenrotica'It's two in the morning, fucking leave me alone.' Freya wanted to protest, but what came out was "It's two in the fucking leave me alone." It had been hard for him to adjust to living with Aiden. Sure, there were maids who cleaned, and people who cooked - but the clocks and all the ticking and chiming! There was a rather large grandfather clock down the hall that woke him up every hour on the hour, and he had only learned to sleep through it now. That, or he was too tired to wake up.
Freya had changed rooms a few times, but he couldn't escape the clocks. In one room he found there was a cuckoo clock whose infernal chirping woke him every half hour, as if the chiming from down the hall wasn't enough. In another the ticking was so loud and unearthly, sleep was impossible. And then there was Aiden, who couldn't understand why ticking and chiming and chirping would ever be a problem, and seemed offended that Freya didn't want to stay in the
Re:Trout heart Replicai. Strain Theory
Strain theory states that people are conditioned to want success, though not all are given the means to achieve it. When success cannot be reached, strain is created, which gives birth to deviance.
"It's just a matter of trying hard enough." Griseldis had told herself often, rejecting the idea. She had tried hard enough to get various diplomas, find ways to pay for them, and start her life. It was a strain, but there was no deviance - just a nice one bedroom apartment and more luxury than she had imagined herself having. She had enough money to throw around and buy good food and provide for someone else.
She had enough money to buy fancy lingerie, as silly a luxury it was.
Looking in the mirror, it was right. It was flattering. But it felt wrong. Maybe because it wasn't gray, like she was used too. Maybe because she had all these aspirations of that special Honeymoon, but she and the man were not a ver
All Hallow's Eve
The sky grew darker as the days grew longer, leading up to the day I had most been looking forward to – Halloween. For years, I had gone out trick or treating, dressed up as any fun thing I could think of. Ghosts, Vampires, Zombies… I’d done them all. But as the years went on, I stopped being “cute”. Rather, I became “too old”, and eventually some people started to call the cops. Seventeen I guess is a little old in the eyes of society, but I was still a kid! Let me have my candy and visit all the houses around!
I looked at myself in the mirror. My costume this year was a joke – nothing more than a sheet over my head with eyes cut out. I wanted to wear a more elaborate costume, but maybe if they saw this amateur costume that covered all my features, I’d get less people afraid of my age.
“I’m heading out!” I called to my parents.
“Timmy, again?” asked my mom. “We told you last year that you are jus
LilahI was in Taste of China, waiting on Lilah to show up. I was pretty nervous, mildly terrified, this could go horrendously badly, or it could go moderately badly, either way, I wasn't sure I wanted to be there. Only I didn't really have a choice.
I remember the first time I met Lilah; it was at Freshman orientation. I didn't pay much attention to her right away, I don't think she wanted anybody to notice her. They had us all gathered in a small room on the second floor of the union.
I wanna say they were talking about the code of ethics on campus, or something, I don't know, I was more distracted by the girl doing the presentation. Now that chick, I did not mind looking at for a while! Skinny enough, with tits big and firm enough to give even an ass man like me pause, and all this plus a pretty face. Just a good looking, stereotypical, hot chick is how I remember her, make-up caked on, the whole package. Eye candy for sure, and so sweet! Listening to her going on with that
Camera of Change: Selfie ConflictThere once was a man who went by the name of Charles Bahmer, an average guy in an average world. Nothing spectacular ever happened to poor Charles. It wasn't like he had a poor social life; in fact he had a great one. The only issue he really had was his inability to take a selfie. That's right. Charles, for whatever reason, could not take a selfie without messing it up somehow. Even though phones had front facing cameras, which were clearly designed for taking selfies, he still screwed it up.
Nonetheless, Charles found himself out walking in the local park during a nice cool fall day. He always loved taking walks when it was nice out. Dressed up in sweats and a blue long sleeve shirt, he was able to stay comfortably warm. As he walked down the trail he noticed something shiny under a few leaves. He walked over to it and crouched down to see what was gleaming in the sunlight.
It was a digital camera, but nothing fancy enough that would be worth something in a pawn shop. Charles noticed