dark and liquid matters

The soil drinks deep of long-awaited rain. Gnomes are fleeing from their flooded burrows.

The beach is closed for fecal matters, try again tomorrow. The Kraken feeds.

Reflections quiver and shimmer on the rock wall rising from the creek. A sylph’s breath upon stone.

A toxic algae flourishes in the depth of a lake. The lake demon grins and whispers “my garden is blooming.”

The humidity will be high this week and Environment Canada has issued heat warnings. The waterlogged ghosts of drowned people are expected to crowd the living this week. You have been warned.

20180217_131304.jpg


 

It’s been hot and humid on the mountain these past few weeks, making it hard to sleep. Sleeplessness has a strange, twisty effect on my imagination. The above lines are my muddled responses to things I saw or heard on the news. Future stories, perhaps, but the water theme tempted me to gather them together.

In writing news, the editor/publisher of the children’s bedtime story anthology Eeny Meeny Miney Mo: Tales for Tired Tykes sent me this review of the book, mentioning that my piece, Leif the Story Hunter, was their favorite. That gave me a thrill.

2018-07-23 08.34.29.png

Print copies of the book are now for sale on the Patchwork Raven’s website for $65 (NZ, international shipping included). My print copy hasn’t arrived yet but I am watching for it.

Happy writing!

reflections

113

The trees were given a rare chance to glimpse themselves in their reflections, watching their likenesses ripple in the breeze and finding themselves quite handsome. The water didn’t stay long enough to cause any harm, but gave them just enough time to comb out their branches and organize their buds before summer.

a conversation on water

“Why does the water get up such a noise when it’s going downhill?”

“It’s roaring,” said the first little boy.

“Is it? Why?”

“Because, it’s pretending to be monster. It finally escaped from under the bed and now it’s busy making a canyon,” that first boy answered.

“It’s just shouting. I like to shout when when I’m on a roller coaster going downhill,” suggested a second boy.

“Hmmm.”

“It is shouting,” said a third, “But not for fun. It’s shouting at us to get out of the way. My mom says fast water is dangerous.”

“Get out of my way, I’M MAKING A CANYON!” the first boy shouted, leaping to his feet and brandishing a twig.   2013_08_08