Bara lay in a four-poster bed with dragons carved into the dark wood of its four posts. A red velvet bedspread lay across her lap. The sheets beneath were bordered with lace, and the lace didn’t end there. She wore a nightgown with humongous frilly sleeves. It was otherwise a diaphanous silk gathered at the bust. Beside the bed was a bouquet of purple lilacs, her favorite spring flower. How her abductor knew that was a mystery. Where he’d gotten the flowers in the dead of winter equally so. The walls were papered with an ivory damask. The damask matched the nightgown, not a shade off. She’d been dressed and placed as sleeping beauty. No detail was missed.

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[My Sponge]

wind flows surface ripples my sponge soaks it up crackles with energy

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Excerpt from the Wisp

There was the unmistakable splash of water. The Wolf jumped with such

power it positively flew. It sprang once more, covered the remaining distance, and barreled into the Spiritkin. Glowing white and silver entwined a foot or two above the water and battled. The Wolf pulled the Spiritkin down to the surface. They splashed ferociously in the shallows. She fought back, but the Wolf was too strong, too quick. Its teeth took hold of her throat and bit. Thick trails of red ran down her glowing skin. The Wolf didn’t give up its bite and she stopped struggling. Still in the creature’s jaws, the Spiritkin turned her head to look at Bara. Her mouth opened and closed. No sound. Vocal cords were cut. The wolf released its jaws from her bloody neck and backed off several feet. It watched and waited.

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From my X account

Falsity often has the advantage in the short term, but that which is not based in reality cannot evolve anymore than a plastic tree can grow and bloom. Falsity does, however, ensure decay, breakdown, and/or corruption with the erosion of time.

#philosophy

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From Safe

on his knees he weeps at the ground somewhere lies his buried treasure problem ... he can't remember where he hid the cache even with a trail of x's to mark the Way

at least he knows they're safe

there was no plan to steal what he never wanted again, again, and again call it instead a loan for the greater good so those gifted with pearls and seeds remain practiced in sowing the soil cleansing the waters

he's a beautiful peacock with telescopic, iris orbs in the dozens but still a fowl with a long scraggly neck eyes that bugle out at the jewel-laden breast of a fluttering starling

"oh no, she's writing about birds again how metaphorically meta pass me the popcorn and tissue

Let's continue ..."