It’s Complicated
I’ve always believed that there is no one in this world, or any other, who can actually help you. I’ve been on my own for so long that I’ve had to learn this the hard way. The best way to protect yourself is to have a healthy air of illusion and fear that surrounds you. It also helps that my mother tempted my father, conceived me, and I grew up here, on earth, alone. Once, I started traveling, following different migrating animals, that’s when people started to ask questions and created rumors. Rather than correcting them, I fed into it.
I spent a lot of time hiding from the world, most clearly, bu only wearing black. But, the black is starkly contrasted against my opal skin, which turns a lot of heads. Eventually, walking around the outskirts of the world gets boring. So, I became a hired hand. A lot of my jobs are killing or bringing them close enough to death that they asked to die rather than be brought back to the person who put a bounty on their head. I’m not an assassin, I really do care about others, a little.
But, the part of me that does care (thanks, Dad) managed to convince my way into the tribes and villages of some witches, oracles, and mages. It was with them that being half-angel and half-demon does come with some perks. Because of dear, sweet mother, I have the ability of limited teleportation. I call it Queen of the Night. I enter into a meditative trance to flush of all of the light from within me, my onyx eyes glow sapphire, and I disappear with the only trace of my presence being a single flower petal. Because of my charming, wise father, if I summon all the light from within and around me, I can levitate for short periods. It’s really helpful when the person you’re trying to catch just so happens to be on the ground and all you need to do is stab them in the neck after falling out of the tree above them. However, Queen of the Night and Bright Step aren’tmy favorite, that would be Entoning. Think necromancy, but I forcibly remove someone’s soul from their body and entrap it into my staff, so I can harness the elemental nature of the soul as long as their soul is in my staff. If there isn’t a distinct elemental nature, a soul just strengthens my staff. Easy way to tell? Watch and see what color the hilts of my sai turn.
Basically, watch out if you feel like there’s a shadow following you, it’s probably me. Because the last thing you may ever see is a sai in your face held in a tattooed or heavily pierced arm.
Oh, I forgot to mention, my name is Nadilija and I do quests! So if you need another in your party, just look in the dark.
The Lover
Dear Timothy,
It’s been a long eleven months without you. I still have your letters to keep me company and the kids, but it’s not the same. Especially now, since all of the kids are in school and business has been slowing down for the winter, I find myself looking out windows waiting for you to come home.
It does give me more and more hope every time one of your letters comes with the mail, even if they are dew and far between. The girls especially love it because I always do a dramatise retelling of one of our stories. Evan doesn’t appreciate it as much. He’s tired of the stories of you, babe. He just wants his dad back home, to pick him up from school, to practise soccer with, anything really.
Babe, we miss you a whole lot. It’s especially hard for the girls during birthday week and Christmas. A lot of tough and sometimes angry faces that always melt into whining and tears. I think All misses you the most. The Daddy-Daughter dance is coming up at church. All her friends are going and she so wanted to go, but she melted into a pool or silent tears when she realised that you’d still be gone and now refuses to go. Lina is walking around as if she hates everyone instead of just openly being upset that you come and go. I know we said that we’d try the career thing, but is there any way to do it stateside?
Before you get mad, hear me out, okay? The kids are getting to the age where they actually know you are gone. They don’t really get why you’re done. Lina has spent most of her life in a what looks like a single-parent home. And, All & Evan were born during one of your two week personal trips. They don’t know what it’s like to have you around for more than a couple months at a time. And, I need you, here, with us. Babe, we said when the war was over or for five tours, whichever came first. But, the war is getting worse and I want you to know your daughters before you walk them down the aisle. I get it, I do. The world needs a hero, and you’re keeping us safe, but what about us? What happened to us against the world? The fight’s not over, but could their be a different from to fight?
I don’t know, just wondering.
To the moon,
Ashley
#CreativeWriting #DearJohn #Letter #Fiction #FictionWriting #Lover #LoveLetter #LoveStory
The Rebel
For all of my life, people have been telling what I could & couldn’t and should & shouldn’t do. But, my life is not theirs to dictate. I will listen to this one thing though–shoot for the moon, and even if you miss you’ll land among the stars. You better believe I’m going to the moon and no one can stop me. I’ve worked too hard and too long for someone who doesn’t know me at all to tell me I can’t pursue all of my dream. If I can’t do it there and I can’t do it here, I’ll keep going and piss off people in the process.
Just because I’ve spent most of my conscious years playing music, doesn’t mean I have to stop or even limit my expression. There are so many great artists who pushed the envelope, or completely disregarded it! Beethoven, Mozart, Rachmaninov, Tchaikovsky, Milhaud, Parker, Gillespie, Presley, West, Gaga, Lucas, and too many more to name. They’re all revolutionaries, game-changers, visionaries. So why can’t I be among them?
The violin can’t be limited because it was meant for orchestral and chamber music. If marching instruments are found in a jazz combo, a Broadway pit, and in New York Phil performances, I can do what I want and you can shut-up and listen or keep on moving. Just wait, you’ll see.
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“‘And, now, welcoming to Avery Fischer Hall for their debut performance’ me. That’s how they’ll announce me.”
“Sure, dude. Whatever, you say. Until that happens, can we get back to rehearsal? The performance is in three days, this isn’t there yet, and it’s my senior comp recital. Basically, if this sounds like crap, everyone looks at me first.”
“Fine.”
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“So how did you hear about our collective, kid?”
“Well, actually, my parents grew up listening to anything and everything what I was growing up, which meant I did too. There aren’t many people out there that do what you are doing. One of my composer friends from school actually recommended I check you guys out and you were playing a small venue downtown the next week. I bought us tickets, we went, and I’ve been hooked ever since.”
“I thought you looked familiar! I told you he looked familiar, Jude.”
“Yeah, I know, you have a great memory for faces,” Jude mocked.
“So, kid, why are you here?”
“All my life people told me everything I could & couldn’t do, how I can & should act and perform, but I’ve always wanted to just be. So, if you are willing, I’d love to play on your shows sometime, sub-in for a gig if a guy gets sick or whatever. I don’t know, but I just want to let the world hear my one can bring people tighter, prepare them for war, lead people in remembrance, but really just tell you how and where I am.”
“Kid, I can’t promise you anything. But, I dig you heart.”
“Yeah, I totally vibe with that.”
"Cool.”
“Cool…Hey, what’s your name anyway?”
“You can just call me The Kid, everyone does”
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“Yeah, thanks for coming out tonight. Before we go, I want to introduce you to someone. He’s been playing with us on our past few shows. You’ve probably seen him with a sax and his twin with a violin. But, it’s actually just him playing both! So, for his debut solo performance with Et. C., The Kid and an original for violin and sax.”
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“How did you first hear about the Ethos Collective?”
“Long short, short: I hate boxes and a friend showed me to this dope group of artists that played as if the box never existed.”
“If my sources are correct, is Et. C. disbanding?”
“You’re sources are correct, unfortunately.”
“What does that mean for you and the other artists?”
“For me, this was just a long layover on my road of artistry. It doesn’t end here for em. I love the wicked artists I got to work and collaborate with. They’re like family, ya’ know? But, my mantra for a long time now has been–I’m going to do what I wasn’t, and you can shut-up and listen or keep on moving. And, I’m going to stick to it.”
“What’s next for The Kid?”
“The moon and, if not, the stars.”
#CreativeWriting #Fiction #FictionWriting #CharacterArchetype #Archetype #Rebel
Welcome to Anilitia
“Here, in Anilitia, we strongly value gaining a deeper understanding about all things, creating or finding solutions to problems, and most importantly loyalty. Unlike in some of the other outfits around Abudits, we do not really care what exactly you do, rather that you push yourself, and your thinking to its furthest limits. We have generational Anilites that have pushed the limits of what it would look like to live, so far that we eventually moved the epicenter of our society into the midst of the water. But, there have been Xanthuan-born, adopted Anilites that have pushed those limits so that our epicenter thus moved under the surface. Whether you are passionate about technology, art, or plants, you can have a place here. All you need to do is find the underlying problems within your field or fields of choice, or at the very least know that everything and anything can be better than it currently is. Questions?”
“Can we, theoretically, work on problems of different outfits?” said one of Malvas.
“Yes, it will improve intrafit relations, but that is not the focus of our research and development, at large. Next.”
“You said ‘field or fields.’ Does that mean I could pursue work in water collents in highly arid climates and correlations between thoughts and involuntary actions?” asked one of the Qirmite boys.
“Yes, simultaneously or sequentially. Last question. You, you have a question,” our Introductory Leader for Anilitia said while looking directly at me.
“Umm, is there anything that is off limits,” I asked hesitantly.
“As a whole, we discourage any research that could result in any form of harm or promotion of violence.”
“Aren’t you the leader for the development for warfare instruments?” I rebutted.
“That’s why I said ‘discouraged.’ If you are so inclined, find me and we can talk about it at another point. Now, we are going to move on and going to hear more about the history, culture, and research of Anilita from their respective counselors from our governing council.
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“To begin,” started the Counselor of Life, “a brief history of Anilitia. We, simply, are the opposite of the Qirmites. We seek peace, level-headed decision-making, and seek the welfare of others and the whole before the individual, as clearly championed by our forefather, Anili the Serene. As a child, he sought to make life for the other forefathers and foremothers better. Often by creating physical solutions to problems that they suffered from. He took it upon himself to learn and study how the world around him worked to make any changes or corrections to his reality. He was also drawn to the water studying the tides, salinity, and different creatures that interacted with it. That is why Anilitia is characterised by the Chitraka, a quadruped that is naturally land-based but relies heavily on the water for all sustenance and escape. All of Abudits turns to Anilitia for the creation and/or development of more technically complex or advanced tools, including the elevating system of Xanthune, material development for the Malvos, and the underground heating network for the food preservation and storage structure in Atramentousia.”
“Culturally, Anilites value efficiency, responsibility, and honestly because they encourage and foster trust. We encourage our children to be specific with the words they use so that their needs are clear and be met. We discourage the use of figures of speech. And, starting from a young age, all children are taught the basics of our outfit, so that they can be trusted members of Anilitia,” rattled off the Counselor of Culture, without missing a beat after the other counselor stopped talking.
“As you may be beginning to understand,” the Counselor of Research picked up, “Anilitia seeks to gain understanding so we can provide a better way of life for everyone. The basis for all research and development is to fulfill just that–provision of a better way of life for everyone, not exclusively Anilites. As was mentioned, any research-based work can focus on anything, as long as justification can be made that the result will indeed better life. That includes the teaching of children, the development of furniture and other home-based appliances, and the development of instruments that can cause pain, violence, or even death. This may seem contradictory. However, if Abudits were to be attacked, being able to protect ourselves and debilitate our attacker would ultimately better the life of everyone.”
All of this seems so…ingenuine. They talk about research and community and making Abudits better but how can it be better if no one can actually do anything they want, if it everything has to be justified?! All of the Anilites walk around with their faces in a screen or some augmented reality, or glued to a board drawing out their ideas and course of action. I don’t care what they do, but I want to know why! They are so smart and sit around all day and think, but no one actually sees the people around them except as a potential source of information or a sounding board for their preformed ideas. I feel like if I chose Anilitia on Saturation Day, I’d be stuck doing without the chance to be or even feel. I don’t know where I’ll choose, but none of them seem like a good fit so far.
#Fantasy #Fiction #FictionWriting #CreativeWriting
A State of a Union
[The following is a transcript of a speech given by the United States President regardind the state of refugee affairs.]
As you may already know, last night Congress passed legislation that would give asylum to those seeking it and a home for those seeking refuge and respite from wartorn countries. Most importantly, the camps and temporary-housing for illegal immigrants will be shut down. Those that were housed and living kept there will be given formal housing assignments, part-time work, and remedial education, including English-language learning, where seen fit. This rehousing, reassignment, and assessment process is being spearheaded by the State Department, ensuring that adequate food, shelter, and other necessities will be provided by not-for-profit organisations that have decided to partner with the State Department.
The camps have begun formal evacuation and former residents will be boarding buses and planes, and will be traveling to different hosts spread throughout the country. I can only imagine parents separated from their children being reunited with and being given a home of their own. People given a first real chance at the American Dream, rather than hiding fearfully in plain sight. Let this mark the day where mothers can tend to their own children and choose to work for another mother, because she wants to rather than fighting tooth and nail to reunite her family on American soil. Let this mark the day where a father can work one job and make ample money to support his family, instead of three, under-the-table jobs and barely making a dent in family living expenses.
I know there are people in our beloved country that this will upset or even aggravate. But, has there ever been someone in your life that gave you a chance? Maybe, even when you did not truly deserve it, or were properly qualified? My grandmother always told me generosity with a lot of love goes farther than any dollar ever could.
The State Department projects that within the next two years, five per cent of those formerly housed and soon reassigned will be on track to becoming a legal citizan and have access to a standard public education. In five years, fifteen per cent, and in fifteen years, fifty per cent. We are looking for a better and brighter future for all people that call this wonderful nation, the United States of America, home.
#Speech #Address #Fiction #FictionWriting #Refugee #President
Summer in Europe
One of the best parts of summer break is all of the freedom and chill vibes that come with it. I’m really excited because my well-travelled best friend managed to convince me andmy parents to go backpacking across Europe this summer. We are going to go all over Europe. Some notable stops include Germany, Portugal, Italy, and Norway. But, who knows, we are going to some countries I’ve never even thought about going to before, like Croatia and Belgium.
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This, by far, was the best summer and late birthday present ever. It was just me and Jess, our backpacks, a general plan subject to change, and a train map for most of Europe. We met some great people, ate phenomenal food, and learned a lot about Europe and ourselves. Since Jess has travelled so much, she was basically my very own tour guide and travel agent! I get why she hates being in one place for so long, because she’s always looking for that next great adventure.
We had a good two months to do anything and go practically anywhere. We flew into London and after 67 days we were going to fly out of Lisbon. We had a general game plan to do at least two countries a week, which would be about seven countries, but Jess said that there were some really great places pretty far from London. So we checked into out hostel, spent a few days in London and took a super cheap flight to the Ukraine. Why? Because I wanted to say that I’ve been to Kiev. Also, my mom’s mother is Ukrainian and she would have been so disappointed if I didn’t at least try to go to Ukraine.
Not going to lie, I really enjoyed Ukraine. It was oddly familiar and I got to practise my Ukrainian with actual Ukrainians. They always were shocked because I look and sound so American, but could have real conversations with them or at least tell them what I wanted with almost perfect grammar. From Kiev we went south to Odessa and basically followed the coast of the Black Sea until we got to Burgas, Bulgaria with a couple pit stops in Bucharest, Romania and Varna, Bulgaria. It was so gorgeous. We took our time getting there and only had three overnight travel days. We spent a week and a half getting there and another full day in Burgas before we set out for Greece! Fourteen days down, 52 left.
After Bulgaria, we island- and city-hopped around Greece. We started in Kavala, a coast town with plenty of history and gorgeous look out spots, then headed west to Thessaloniki, another coast town with plenty of history. It was so cool to get to read through the letters to the Thessalonians in the place, the actual intended audience’s home, that Paul the Apostle sent his letters to! And, of course, we headed down to Athens, saw all the sights we could manage, and island-hopped north toward Albania. If you Google search pictures of Albania, they are like all breathtaking, so I made Jess actually take a couple of days in Albania. Apparently, it’s one of the hidden gems of Europe, so how could we not? Between Greece and Albania, we spent another seven days, so 45 left.
When we got to Albania, Jess was already thinking about where to next and hot to get there. Turns out, there is an overnight ferry from Albania to Italy and another ferry up to the coast from Italy to Croatia, and she said since she had never done it before, we just had to. We hopped on the first ferry in Durrës, Albania and hopped off in Bari, Italy. We touristed around Italy, through Naples, Rome, Florence, Bologna, San Marino, and ended in Ancona to catch the ferry to Zadar, Croatia. Another six days gone, 39 left; well, 38 by the time we got to Zadar.
A month into this trip, it felt like we just started flying through the days and the cities–Zadar and Zagreb in Croatia for two days; up to Vienna, Autria for two more days because I really wanted to see an opera; ovre to Germany for Munich, Nuremberg, Dresden, Berlin, and Hamburg for a week; up to Copenhagen, Denmark then Göttenbrg and Stockholm, Sweden, and Oslo, Norway for five days. Sixteen days of just constant moving, meant 22 left.
Since we powered through for two weeks, we could relax and take our time and go to the smaller, harder to reach places in our remaining countries. We had four planned countries left, which averaged to five or six days in each! We flew down to the Netherlands, saw all the tulip fields (that weren’t in bloom), the windmills, the canals, and Amsterdam. Oh, and, the Dutch really are giants. Everyone is just so tall.
One of the great things about the American public school system is that students have to take some foreign language, typically. Also, being fluent in two languages made it really easy to learn German, at least to a conversational level. And, that made our time in Austria, Germany, and Belgium so much easier. I told Jess since we had all this time, we had to go to Antwerp and Brussels and Luxembourg, just for kicks. I really loved Belgium.
I feel like France was a combination of a wine, art, and history tour. Reims, Paris, Versaille, Orléans, Tours, La Rochelle, Bordeaux, and Toulouse. We didn’t spend a day in each, but we did spend a few hours in each before we caught a train to the next city. Jess wasn’t really into all the history, but loved the art and only talked more and more about it the closer to Spain that we got.
We pinballed around Span. Bilbao, Madrid, Valencia, Murcia, Málaga, Gibraltar, and Seville. Spain is so culturally and culinarily diverse, from the learned lisp of Barcelona to the paella of Valencia. Ant, it’s also full of history, art, music. I just feel like Spain is teeming with life in such a unique way that a lot of the other countries we went to weren’t.
After two jam-packed months of adventure and travel, Jess and I decided to spend our last full day on the beach in Lisbon before our early morning flight back to America.
I’m so glad Jess and I went on this trip. It was cool because me and my best friend got to take on the world together! It wasn’t perfect–we got lost a couple times, missed a train–, but I wouldn’t change a single moment for anything. The best parts weren’t getting new passport stamps, even though we did go to 19 countries in 67 days! Or, even the places that we went , but the small moments and our new friends. Like, when Jess and I got to stay with some of my grandmother’s family just outside of Kiev for free. Or, the random Alaskan man that just started talking to us in a random coffee shop in Albania before we headed to the port to catch the ferry to Italy. Next, time, because I have to do this again, we aren’t going to go so much, rather just be. Here’s to the best summer ever and that the next will be even better!
#Adventure #Europe #Fiction #FictionWriting #Summer
The Guy from Camp
Have I ever told you about the guy from camp last year? It isn’t anything and it wasn’t then either. But, I sure hoped it would have been.
Every good story and musical starts at the beginning, so I guess I should start there too. I first met him at a little meet & greet for all of the camp staff for the summer. To be honest, he was weird and unnecessarily smart. He knew like a million and a half things, and like half of them were classic cars. When he wasn’t spouting off random facts, he always seemed to be looking for the darkest and emptiest corner or trying to leave any gathering that had more than two people. And, and, and, he like never ever talked.
I talk all the time! It was like pulling teeth from a person with a migraine fully conscious! It was a successful interaction if I could conjure up questions that required more than a two syllable reponse. Long story, short–he was too closed off for me to even stop long enough and see deeper than his latest YouTube tutorial review on crafted stage weapons.
Once camp started, since we worked for different majors, I didn’t see him much. The high school symphonic orchestra librarian doesn’t have a schedule at all similar to the theatre prop master and assistant combat instructor, except for meals on the opposite side of camp. I didn’t really notice him until we were having full cast and crew rehearsals for the camp’s annual musical. This year, a true classic, West Side Story. We may not be in New York, but everyone can relate to high school love. Okay, almost everyone. I can guess what it would have been like seeing as I got my GED at 16 to do a pre-college music program.
We still didn’t really talk. Not until we were in tech week. Also known as utter chaos on- and off-stage, tech week is the giant lamp that shines on a beautiful chandelier or a broken mirror. Out show looked more like a broken mirror that someone had tried to put back together but had broken into even smaller pieces, and then mysteriously burned. Half of the Jets were realising how hard it actually is to stage-fight and project simultaneously, and half of the pit orchestra clearly didn’t understand what “vamp” means. And, what more universal way of bonding is there than talking about work stress?
The first night a lot of the camp staff that was involved with the show, sat in the staff house and complained, gave very lackluster encouragement, and went to sleep. I stayed because I had work to do and it was already lights out in my cabin. He just sat in a corner on his phone, probably researching about today’s random topic of the day, because he is the epitome of a night owl. So, after a lot of mental frustration, I asked him to go on my cabin rounds with me, just to have some silent company. Then, we went back and just talked and talked and talkied. It felt like maybe an hour had past, but it was actually 10 minutes past 4 A.M. Praise God, we had a late rehearsal scheduled and no orchestra that day! I went to my cabin and laid in bed thinking up a billion what-ifs.
The second time, he showed me around the prop closet. Being me, I kept pulling things out and asking questions which somehow led to dress-up and a “fashion show.” I’ve never cosplayed or really understood why people would want to, but I get it, a little bit more now.
The third time, both of our cabins had a mixer, which meant us camp staff were glorified chaperones for the 14-18 year olds scoping out and claiming any love prospects.
But, the last time happened just after strike. He seemed super moody, so I called him out on it. He said if I really wanted to know, I at least needed to take the time to hear him out. I told him to come to the basement of the music department, because I was filing all the parts and scores back into the music library. We talked like no time had passed, even thought it had been nearly a month.
I was kind of into him, he may have been into me, but the timing was just all wrong, especially since camp was ending the next day.
#CreativeWriting #Fiction #FictionWritng #Camp #LoveStory
The Portal
On the planet Aitopu, the great people tell of the story of the great and mysterious portal to another universe that appeared in the middle of Aitopu one day and then left some time later. This is that story.
Aitopu is a large planet near the giant, gaseous star, which makes Aitopu too hot to have large quantities of water. but, the great people of Aitopu discovered a very finite source of water deep below the surface when they began relocating their society that functioned under the surface because of the extreme heat of the star.
The day that this water source was found, coincieded with Aitopu’s first king’s birthday. So the day was marked as a holiday and celebrated on the same day, every 182 days, the duration of their revolution around the star. The people of Aipotu celebrate by abstaining from all drink and work for a week prior to te day of discovery and they break their obstination at high noon on Discovery DAy with a large lass of fresh water. But, after several years of this the water supply was severely threatened, to the point where people would have to pay astronomical prices to just participate in the celebration. Year after year, fewer and fewer could participate, and eventually people started to die after their extended lack of drink in the extreme heat on Aitopu. It go to the point where only the royal family got to celebrate Discovery Day. It was then that a portal was discovered to a planet in Aitopu’s twin universe, but this planet was primarily comprised of water and ice, depending on its proximity to its sun during its orbit.
The first person to test the portal has been forgotten but what they found changed the history of Aipotu forever. Once the portal was deemed sage, the king mandated that multiple outfits of people fo through the portal to collect water and bring it back to Aitopu for storage and future usage. The king calculated it 12 outfits collected 100 lekas of water each per day for two years and regulated the water consumption, then the water would last for at least 10 years for the entire population of Aitopu.
After 273 days of water collection, one of the water collection managers reported to the king that the portal appeared out of focus. Normally, the portal looked like a frameless picture of another world. Now, the portal was fluctuating in size and transparency. the manager warned the king that the portal may disappear as randomly as it had appeared. The king heeded her warning and allowed her to change the daily collection quota for the safety of all the water collectors.
The quota was reduced to 50 lekas of water per collection for all 12 daily collections. Then, the quota was reduced to 50 lekas for eight daily collections. And, soon enough, the head collection manager deemed any portal travel completely unsafe. That very day, the portal faded away and was never seen again.
The king made a formal declaration that any and all water collection has hirtherto ceased and the water that they had would be more strictly regulated until they could find a replacement water source for the collection on the watery planet. People returned to a life that they ad hoped to never return to.
Without the people’s knowledge, the king had employed some scientists, engineers, agriculturists, and chemists to develop a way to create water from the resources that were in abundance on Aitopu. After years of research and experimentation, the water collective found a solution and life on Aitopu changed again, but that’s a different story.
#Fiction #FictionWriting #CreativeWriting #Fantasy #Portal #SciFi
The Creator
“Hi, my name is Mindy and I’m the owner of Made with Love Bakery. Here at Made with Love, our specialty is all of the baked goods you need for that moment. You know what I’m talking about.
“A beautiful summer day in a park, eating ice cream, and drinking lemonade with your friends. But, sometimes, you’re stuck inside at work. The exact reason why I made Summer Day, a shortbread sandwich cookie filled with a sweet and tart lemon cream. The crisp crunch of a waffle cone and the refreshing brevity of a fresh-squeezed lemonade.
“Or, that dreary fall Saturday morning and all you want to do is sit by a cozy, crackling fire in an oversized flannel, with a fleece blanket, a good book, and your favourite hot drink. That’s why we have The Weather Girls, a nod to the one-hit wonders. They are a trio of chocolates. Whether you prefer your rainy day drink caffeinated or just sweet, this is perfect for you. First, a classic milk-chocolate truffle with a chocolate ganache and marshmallow centre. Second, a dark truffle with a rich espresso centre. And, last but not least, a white chocolate truffle with a fall spiced tea filling. I could just eat them right now!
“What about the time of year when the leaves start to change and all the grocery stores are putting out their pies. Instead of buying a full pie of each flavour, just get the All Fall pie, a collection of your favourite pie flavours: apple, pumpkin, pecan, chocolate, and custard. Each piece of the pie is perfect for sharing, so the only thing your family has to fight over is how many pies to get!
“But, at Made with Love, all of those sweet treats are great, that’s not what we are known for. Here, we started this bakery with the basics–good bread–and that’s how we end each day, too. Every day we make bread to order, whether it’s a whole load or individual sweet rolls, which means we bake throughout the day, what’s better than the smell of fresh baked bread? Nothing! If you’re not convinced, stop on by and ask for a little piece of something that just came out of the over. Homemade…”
“Mindy, that’s great and all. Very informative. But it’s way too long. Remember, 20 seconds is the goal, and 45 seconds is the absolute max. You’ve been talking for minutes!”
“But, I was just…I was just hoping that …”
“Mindy, I can help you shorten it, but until then your commercial can’t be recorded and aired. I’m sorry, really.”
#Fiction #FictionWriting #CharacterArchetype #Archetype #Creator #Sweets
The Orphan
All I remember is being alone in an overgrown forest waiting for my parents to come back, day after day, for months on end. After nearly 10 years, I gave up hope of ever seeing them or anyone else ever again. And, that was the day a girl as tall as the trees and the two boys who always were in a fight or about to start one and traveled with her found me. Wll, more along the lines of they found my house and I found them in it.
The only reason I know that they were there was because of all the noise that they were making. The two boys were having an argument about whether someone lived in my house or not. They were making some of the strangest points–signs of natural decay but ashes of a recent fire, and materials for mending clothes but long-term habitation of vermin. To alert them of my presence, after listening to them bicker and watching their very different forms move about, I crunched on some very old leaves that fell last autumn and kick some small rocks about before entering the only door.
I swung the door open and waited for them to react. They froze and stared at me as I slowly moved inside and shut the door. The girl who had yet to say much by this point, watched me with her large, round amethyst eyes, taking me in before she enacted one of the plans she must have been conjuring up at that very moment. One of the boys, the shorter of the two, with a fierce look in his eyes, the eyes of a mother bear ready to protect her young from even the slightest of threats. The other boy, the taller one, watched me with the faintest of grins on his face as if he were watching to see what an animal would do in its own home under very obvious supervision. It was the most awkward game of chicken in my life.
The short one spoke first, “Vivetu heer?” He waited as I glanced between the three of them, trying to find the meaning of his words on their faces. He asked again, “Vivetu heer?” with a little more agitation and a little less patience. Picking up on some cue that I did not, the girl walked toward the smaller boy and gently draped her long, thin fingers on his shoulder and eased some of the tension that was growing visibly in his shoulders. He took a few steps back, glaring the whole time.
Now with most of my attention on the firl, she gestured around the house and gently asked, “Vivetu,” pointing to me, “heer?” I slightly shook my head and said, “Po,” in the affirmative. With growing confusion, she gestured to me and then around us asking, “Vivetu heer?” To which I responded, “Po,” with a shake of my head. And to make sure they understood my answer, I went to the mended clothes, picked them up, and said, “Meena,” to the bed in the corner and said “Meena,” to the firewood in a differe corner, “Meena,” and with a large, encompassing sweep of my arms, “Meena!”
“Jha, jha, jha. Aetu, aetu tostos,” the girl said. Since we clearly didn’t speak the same language, we were reduced to this terribly trivial form of communication. She placed a hand on her chest and said, “Ataru. Mo ylame Ataru.” Pointing to the short, glowering boy, Ataru said, “Qirmi,” and pointing at the other, she said, “Anili.”
“Meena ima yed Malvern,” laying a hand on my chest.
“Meena imayet Melvern? Yo ylatu Meena imayet Melvern?”
“Sho,” nodding my head rapidly, “Malvern” with long, drawn out syllables to make sure she could understand me.
“Jha, jha, jha. Malvern. To ylatu Malvern.”
“Po! Malvern yed meena ima.”
Instead of letting this go on all night, I pretended to start a fire with the firewood and whatever it was that looked like it was only getting stiffer by the second, as a peace offering and welcome into my house, even though they had let themselves in. They eventually relented and allowed me to cook for them. And, as they ate, they offered me some and restarted that dreadful game. If I understood correctly, Ataru is either the tallest or the eldest, but by the looks of it both. Qirmi and Anili are the same somehow, but Qirmi was first. It was about this time that Anili started asking all the gesticulated questions as well as when all the yawns began. I allowed them to stay the night. And in the morning, I left with them on whatever adventure or trouble they were going to get into, because I would rather be with them and in danger than alone one more day, especially after knowing that there are others here.
#Fantasy #Fiction #FictionWriting #CharacterArchetype #Archetype #Orphan