I write a lot of different things:
Short fiction #100words #shortfiction #instastories
You staring at me, staring at you. My crimson locks enchanted you, it was the first thing you noticed. My cool nonchalance does not reflect my manner, simply a state of being. What you see is what you get. You can’t change me; but yes, you may destroy me. Try if you dare. Look into my soul through golden plumes. It is the heart of me built over centuries – a mold which you can never understand or interpret. But open your mind and you can learn. The sins of the father can be reversed. Look outside your cosm; yours is not the only way.
The unadorned facade was its greatest giveaway. Given up to those with the enthrall of the unknown. Though few had breached. If one succumbed to urban myth, it would be true to say, that avoidance of the block was required. Those who breathed the fear and approached were greatly rewarded. Behind these walls was an enchanted portal to the Forever Mist – a hedonistic magic carpet intoxicating the senses. The Mist was a floral power as yet, unexplained.
Nugl had lost its way. Floating helplessly between the past and the present day, Nugl felt frustrated at the loss of kinship, the loss of a combined history, a careless nod to one’s existence, that only added to the noise of present-day living. It only goes, Nugl surmised. The young can’t help what they do not know. Are they completely blameless? Perhaps not. Either way, the Foreshadow had failed in spotlighting the way. Could Nugl find Foreshadow and return it?
The café was strategically placed. I sat close to the glass wall bathed in the hot humidity outside. Why I was drinking warm tea is anyone’s guess. The wig and glasses I wore fit the scene. So I thought. The object of my attention was on the other side of the street, messing up the footpath with dirty water from cleaning more glass. He flicks the squeegee and lunges back at the soapy glass to hurriedly finish the job. Watching him is hard enough; this heat is a killer. I just want out of this scene; the watcher watching the watcher. The object of the cleaner’s attention is inside the well air-conditioned atrium with cool marble and water features, cocktail at the ready.
Brilliant colours of the fading summer light filled me with joy. Nothing could touch or hurt me and my heart soared high above the birds below. My mind’s eye pictured my mother and carefree days as a child, accompanying her on errand trips to the city. My good behaviour rewarded with a classically plain ham #sandwichcut on fresh bread from the oven. It was hard to pry me away from the #cake cabinet. Why don’t people start a meal with #dessert first?
I am also a contributing writer for What’s on Brisbane site, Brisbanista.