Sunday Rain

There is nothing so beautiful as a waking up in the early hours Sunday morning to the sound of rain and rolling thunder. The cool smell of rain hanging in the air, and the peace of laying in bed thinking of how beautiful life is.

Or it would be if I weren’t in jail.

For me, the sight of clouds is a balm to my soul. Rain makes dealing with the punctilio of life more bearable. It has been months of agonizing, blistering sunshine. So I decided to take matters into my own hands.

It took a week of naked rain dances in the quad, but I brought the rain!

The first six nights were easy. I waited until close to 2 am, unfortunately it was the coldest time of the night. But I was determined to have my rain. Some nights the dances would be fast and exotic, some were slow and sensual. I was saving the best for last.

The sky needed to know how I felt. I needed to feel the cool drops of peace sliding down my skin. I danced for the sky, I danced to entice the water, to summon the rolling clouds and to invite the thunder to play it’s beautiful song.

I’d just felt the cool harbinger of rain when campus security found me. Usually they wouldn’t have caught me, but I gave myself up to the dance, I never noticed their interruption.

Heroes

Once we were heroes, but everything has changed. It’s a sad tale, but I will take the time to explain, so you won’t make the same mistakes we did.

We used to be three but one in purpose, desire and action. We were and are, very distinctly different people.

First there was Sheba, the great and powerful. A leader that lit the way for the rest and for even others who came later. She forged our bond and made it her own burden to carry. She stood tall and proud, filling the great void with her presence.

Next there was Athena, the gentle and wise. She never acted or spoke before it was prudent. Peace was brokered because of her great advice. Empathy was her greatest asset even though it brought her great pain.

Last there was Cleopatra, the fire and force of us all. She had a mighty heart that she drew her strength and courage from. At times she was rash and reckless but it was always because she was doing the most and best she could for all of us.

So happened you ask?

It was a mortal weakness that caused the first chink in our link together. If we had been mortal, it would have been weathered away, never breaking our strength. Unfortunately that chink became a break, and the break a chasm. We called to each other, but we didn’t hear.

We fight alone now. 

White Raven

I was asleep when I first saw the White Raven.

It was such a weird dream. I was on Mars, in a newly set up hab. Looking through the crystal polycast at the stars. We were having a lesson on the new star scape so if we ever got lost on assignment we could get back.

Suddenly a white figure flew gracefully across my vision. It perched on a stool next to the door. It spoke to me, but not through it’s own beak, rather he spoke polyphonic through the people all around me.

“The stars are precious to me,” it echoed. “At one time they were threatened. I’m looking for a guardian to keep them safe, safe from those who would extinguish their beauty and use their power for destruction. Can you be that guardian?”

I sputtered, “I. . . I don’t know.”

“I need to know,” it crooned through the voice of a small child, “Time is not a straight line like mortals believe.  It’s a spiral, and ever twisting in and around itself. It might be tomorrow, or it might be generations from now when I need you. But I do need you.”

It was hard to fathom what was being asked of me, asked of my family. But If I didn’t. . .

I turned to tell the Raven that I would, a thrill of excitement and nervous for what would actually be asked of me.  

Then I woke up.

Locks

Sweat dripped off of Nikita’s brow as she labored to spring the lock on a century old storage case. She battled both the clock and her ability to work in utter silence. Both of which were working against her.

A glass vase shattered on the floor as an obscenely fluffy brown cat perched on the mantle looking as innocent as a newborn. Nikita glared.

Suddenly her teacher appeared in the doorway, there was a smattering of heartbeats, then a heavy sigh. “I taught you to pick locks and this is how you are using that skill?! Her teacher intoned.

Nikita thought to hold her tongue but instead blurted out, “How many nights did I spend lucubrating to hone this skill? Hundreds! But all you ever taught me to work on were modern locks and yet I can’t even unlock a centuries old lock? Clearly I have found a hole in your teaching methodology.”

The glare NIkita received could have melted battle steal into slag.

Swiftly coming forward, her teacher took Nikita’s lock picking tools, gracefully sat in front of the case and had it unlocked in less time than it took a hummingbird to move from one flower to the next.

“You claim to have studied this art for hundreds of nights? If you expect to be good, you need to study for thousands. Even then it won't help you unless you master the most basic art.”

“Which is?”

“Patience.”

Five Blocks

Five blocks. All he had to travel was five blocks. From his home, through the perils of the world and back. He was both terrified and thrilled. This was going to take forever.

A test the elders call it, to see who has the spirit and the will to join the tribe proper. The elders could choke on their words. If they hadn’t gone through the same trial he would kill them when he got back. One step at a time

A warrior, that is what they will call him. They will sing songs of praise and admiration. There was even talk of giving Snowdrop to him as a wife. To be his, a thought beyond compare. That is if he makes it.

His mother did it, years ago sure, but she must have been a bright warrior when she was younger to conquer this challenge. A couple of his sisters made it through. How, oh how did they do it. Many he knew never came back. He even passed some of their scattered remains on his way.

The hardest stretch is the long desert. Nothing grows there, and yet gigantic beasts constantly criss cross it’s immovably stretches. Snowdrop is not worth this torture. In the desolation he has found eternal shade. At first there was constant unbearable heat from the yellow demon in the blue, but then a vibration shook the desert and the demon was no more.

*Squish*