the Stone Table

"She would have known that when a willing victim
who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor's stead,
the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backwards."
from The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis

Fine

Sylvia Moon: [crying] You don't know what it's like! 

Detective Robert Goren: What, to work so hard? 

Sylvia Moon: Yes. 

Detective Robert Goren: And still be a nobody. 

Sylvia Moon: Yes. 

Detective Robert Goren: Welcome to the human race

"Law & Order: Criminal Intent: Art (#1.2)" (2001)

Comfort

We are a little people
living in the here and there.
but when drawn back we see the world.
no here and there,
only now, infinity, eternity.
this: a comfort.

Anar

"And then Gelmir brought forth one of those lamps
for which for which the Noldor were renowned;
for they were made of old in Valinor,
and neither wind nor water could quench them,
and when they were unhooded they sent forth a clear blue light
from a flame imprisoned in white crystal."
from The Unfinished Tales by J.R.R. Tolkien

Autonomy is not for an automaton

"And Benny sang with the others, knowing that Jack Foley's face
was somewhere with all the faces around the fire,
not taking over the whole night's sky."
from Circle of Friends by Maeve Binchy

A November Witching Hour

Part IX

Isra stood with her heels over the edge of the curb and her thumb in her mouth, staring at a grey-sided house. In the middle of its roof’s pinaccle there was a 2 foot high silver spike. At this moment the samurai house’s sword was stabbing right into the heart of the sun, the edges fired orange and gold. Despite the glare, Isra’s eyes were glued to the spike. She stood, motionless (except for her cheek’s contractions as she sucked her thumb) for a half hour until the sun disappeared behind the house. Then, she started walking again towards the wood, balancing on the edge of the curb.

As her feet nestled into the leaves of the Devine Woods, she wiped her thumb on her jeans. She took careful steps as she advanced, carfully avoiding sticks and the driest leaves, for a little over a mile. She hadn’t seen a bird or even a squirrel. Finally, she heard a great chorus of crows in front of her, and she stopped, planting her feet in the soil below the leaves. Soon the bird calls were joined by a heavy padding, like a massive tom cat’s paws on stuffed sofa. She tilted her head; no sound of leaves being crushed underfoot. Whatever it was was coming toward her. Three black crows flew over her head, but she didn’t duck. She could now see a light up ahead bright enough to obscure the trees close to it.

The padding stopped and the light faded. She found herself looking into the a pair of golden eyes set in a white anglo-saxon face. It’s auburn hair flowed down to it’s shoulders, but these shoulders were not those of a man. They were fur covered and golden; a body of a lion. It was a sphinx. A multitude of crows flew around its head, and under its great belly, clearing the ground by three feet or more. The beast slouched forward six more steps, and raised it head. Isra stared into its eyes, trick mirrors of her own (her eyes shone and its were loveless). She stood between it and the town. Reaching into her pocket, she brought out a vial (its label read Blessed Spiritual Products Spikenard Anointing Oil). She got down on her knees, took off the lid of the oil, and poured it in front of her, a wall between her and the beast. “In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, you shall not pass this line before the appointed time.” Before her eyes the sphinx faded, leaving just the crows.

Isra stood and wiped the dirt from her jeans.

“Praise the Lord.” She sighed, and looked around. Then, she giggled. She had made a rhyme. Kinda.

Spring

like reading lyrics at the same time you listen to the song

                            and finding not a word wrong

Hope Does Not Put Us to Shame

Two photos combined in Pages

Edited in Picnik

Edited in Picnik

Which one do ya'll like the best?

A Mirkwood Novella

"Actually as I have told you, they were not far off the edge of the forest;
and if Bilbo had had the sense to see it, the tree that he had climbed,
though tall in itself, was standing near the bottom of a wide valley,
so that from its top the trees seemed to swell up all around
like the edges of a great bowl, and he could not expect to
see how far the forest lasted."
The Hobbit J.R.R. Tolkien

Safety?

"The doubts that drove us through the night
As we two walked amain,
And day had broken on the streets
Ere it broke upon the brain."
The Man who was Thursday by G.K. Chesterton

Turn the Corner

Even so is my evensong

"Listen: there are easier things than witnessing a miracle of God."
From Peace Like a River by Leif Enger

Favorite

"In God's infinite love, he loves no one more than another.
We are all, therefore, God's favorite.
Each soul is immeasurably valuable,
no less than the value of a single bride loved by her suitor.
Few humans understand their relative value to God."
Bride Collector by Ted Dekker (Model: Alaudidae)

Paperweight Circa 1984

"They sye that time 'eals all things,
They sye you can always forget;
But the smiles an' the tears acrorss the years
They twist my 'eart-strings yet!" 1984 by George Orwell

An April Snow for My Darling

A November Witching Hour

Part VIII

The noon sun flew in behind them as they walked to the front of the town hall, Cicero in the lead. They arranged themselves behind him as he stood at the pulpit, Alaric on his right, Lenora on his left, gazing out at their leiges of Breton. Those who met their eyes dropped them after a quick second. The only sound was from an impolitic little bird invisible outside. Reilly’s mother was sitting in the second pew; Lenora hadn’t cared to look for her. The grand doors were closed. Cicero rested his right hand above the top button of his silk double-breasted jacket.

“A century ago, I stood before you and announced the man who will be my successor: Caedmon Fillier. Now it is my pleasure to introduce his partner, wife, and love: Lenora Fillier.”

Everyone stood and applauded while Lenora smiled, standing like she was balancing a pile of books on her head. After everyone was seated again, Cicero opened his mouth to speak. Before a syllable could pass through his lips, however, the maple doors opened, and sunlight stabbed into the hall again. A girl entered. She had black skin, and a single dark plait fell over her shoulder. No one in Breton nor any of the elders had ever seen her before. She took a seat with reverberating footsteps in the third row from the back. The elder’s faces had transformed to marble, and the people of Breton stiffened their backs against the pews. The girl held Cicero’s eyes, but neither spoke. Her full lips slowly curved upward on one side. She put her elbow the corner of the pew, and rested her chin on her fist. She was pudgy and her neon yellow shirt clung to the excess flesh in a  very non-flattering way. Cicero deliberately removed his gaze from her, and continued his speech, and with each word the people seemed to stiffen more and more till their ligaments were turned to wooden boards. The stranger girl was the exception of course: she tilted her head as she listened, then after a few minutes she closed her eyes and seemed to cease to hear anything not in her own head. Lenora thoughts she saw her lips moving too.

The speech finished itself and the citizen automatons stood and applauded. Lenora couldn’t see if the girl stood or not, past the people. Quietly, they filed out the hall, needing no dismissal, but the elders stood in their same places immovable as Venus de Milo. The stranger girl threaded her way through the fleeing Bretons to the stage. Cicero moved out from behind the pulpit to the lip of the top stair. The girl stopped directly in front of him, her head barely coming up to his chest. She smiled up at him, her  right hand hanging from the black braid.

“Impressive speech,” she mused. She left foot kept rolling from its flat to the its side, but her eyes stayed steady on his.

“Thank you,” Cicero returned her smile, but his teeth looked like icicles. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“I’m Isra,” she replied. She giggled quietly, then, but no one knew what was funny.

Cicero’s smile was still in place, then he seemed to mentally shrug, the marble slipping off his shoulders and sliding down his back. “I’m sorry if the welcome was a little cold,” he said, “We usually reserve meetings like this solely for the citizens of Breton.”

“Oh, that’s all righty,” she answered quickly. “We’re all chillin’ of Adam and Eve.” No one knew what that had to do with anything. Except for her, of course.

“Well, seein’s as how ya’ll don’t seem to get strangers much, I should tell you why I’m here,” she continued unbidden.

“I was driving down Fisher Road, takin the back way to work, when I went past ya’lls road (which was a lot longer than I thought it was goin to be btdubs) and God was just like you should go that way, so I was like sure, awesome...And yeah.” Lenora blinked.

Cicero tilted his head. “Well. How long do you think God will have you stay with us, my dear.”

“I ‘n know,” she answered. She looked around. “I mean I do not know,” she said enunciating every word.

“Then,” he said, “perhaps we will see you again before you are called away.” He nodded at her, and walked for the door. The elders followed her, the men’s shoes and the lady’s dress trains making music on the hard wood floor.

Isra watched them go, wrapping her braid around her finger. She shook her head, and giggled.