Dryad
We are the dryads, agents of softening, drinking sunlight, and dispersing the soil. Perhaps we too are enforcing some kind of strangeness upon the bedrock, but we were doing it long before you were.
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A Fortress
Sleep, friends — stop worrying and sleep.
I’m here to be your refuge, me and my blade and my body.
I am here to shelter you — a fortress made of shadow and stone.
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The Franklin Institute’s Rhythmic Machines
In my memories of this time, the Franklin Institute is a strangely bare and echoey place of learning and wandering, a true “Institute“ of hard surfaces and high ceilings and placards. three key landmarks especially stuck with me: a giant pendulum hanging down from the ceiling of a stairwell, a clockwork display of balls rolling along tracks, and a scaled up model of a human heart that we could walk through.
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Moonlight monologue
Now that the last of us eavesdroppers are gone, the little creek can speak freely, addressing nobody, confiding in the empty air.
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On living the occult-curious life
Alongside the dominant religions with all their baggage, there’s something on the margins, especially suited for the independent and curious and eccentric. Libraries have books about the faerie folk, and bookstores have tarot decks, and open-air markets have stalls with astrological diagrams. I think this is how many of us discover something like a decision point, or a chosen family, in our spiritual journey.
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An Unwelcome Sight
We left the spire vacant for generations. Nobody entered… nobody even went close enough to see where it met the earth.
But last night, just by chance, we passed close enough to see it above the trees — and there were lights in the windows.
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What’s Done
Do you see my beacon? Do you see the tower, lit and smoking like tallow? Now the world will know…
They will know the tower’s authority is not absolute.
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The Secret Ingredient
I have something you will never find in your encrypted archive, in your registry, in your solid state cold storage.
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Shadow body mirror world
When I was lost in the light, I made my own dark, and it walked with me — my ageless shadow, my loyal replica. And in this mirror, another — a replica of the world.
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Transparency
She didn’t need to study the spell in a grimoire, or learn it from a back-alley conjurer… she had it in herself already, and she found it easily enough.
