Swanlight

As the daylight dims, where evening and night meet, strange shadows cast by the streetlamps, create pockets of darkness in the doorways and alcoves of the city street.

In the friscalating dusk light, dangers that hide in the bright of day, come out from the recesses of the mind, to play tricks in the unfamiliar night.

Greasy, amber light flickers in places we know to be safe; filling them with imagined mysteries we know not to be. But ones we cannot help but see.

Beckoning us in, it welcomes us with open arms. The shadows entice us with their dark charms.

We enter in; slip breathlessly into the night. And we pass forever, out of sight.

It had not been a hallucination, Theodore thought fiercely.

It had not been a figment of his imagination. He had seen the giant tortoise by the park. Hadn't he?

He had seen the big domed shape on the green grass that edged the marshy stream running on the border of the big city park. Out of the corner of his eye as he had run passed on one of his daily jogs.

At first he had thought it was just a clump of grass and dirt, but he could have sworn he had seen it move.

He regretted not stopping at the time and going back to check, because now the question haunted him. Did he see a giant tortoise in the middle of the city, lounging on the grassy green lawn of the park?

When he made the claim that he had to his friends and family, they just laughed and thought he was just telling one of his fancy stories.

And maybe it was.

He had gone back to the spot maybe times, sometimes armed with a camera, and sometimes just altering his jogging route to check periodically for the big turtle. But it was never there.

It was maddening.

He had almost come to believe it had been just his imagination, until one fall evening Theodore was on a quick run, not even realizing he was running passed the fabled patch of grass, when there it was.

The big tortoise. Just sitting there, almost awaiting his arrival.

Theodore stopped, almost jumping with excitement. He had to cover his mouth with his hand from laughing out loud with joy. He did not want to spook the animal away. Though how fast a giant tortoise could flee did not enter his mind; it was racing with exhilaration.

He stood and stared at the big animal for a long while, as it simply regarded him with kind old eyes; eyes that seemed to smile back at the jubilant Theodore.

Slowly he began to move toward the kindly old tortoise and as he neared, its head bobbed up and down as if it were approving of Theodore's approach.

The dimming autumn sunlight began to reverse and brighten into a spring morning as Theodore reached out his hand to the moss-patched dome of the tortoise's shell.

Its head still bobbing with approval, Theodore placed his hand on the textured surface of the shell. His smile broke into laughter as he felt a warmth pour over him as the daylight shinned on their private patch of grass.

Knowing that it was the right thing to do, Theodore sidled the massive turtle and mounted its shelled back.

Sitting atop the tortoise, Theodore threw back his head as he laughed as he had when he had been young; full of pure delight.

Slowly the tortoise plodded around the soft grass lawn as Theodore smiled and laughed, the summer sun warming his face.

For what might have been moments, or a lifetime, he rode around on the tortoise's shell, all the while laughing until tears welled in his eyes.

At last, they rode into the light that bordered their grassy field and both he and his turtle friend were enveloped by the white light.

When Theodore opened his eyes he was standing on the sidewalk beside the park. Shadows were growing within the threes and the autumn air was becoming quickly chilled as the light drained from the evening sky.

Theodore looked around for the tortoise but it was no where in sight. Had it been there?

The memory of riding around on the turtle's back began to fade like a dream as he stood panting from his jog. He shook his head and continued his run home; the question still in his mind. Had he seen the tortoise or just imagined it?

By the time he arrived back at home he had decided that he would keep the memory to himself. Not a story or hallucination.

A memory of riding the tortoise in the bright summer sun.

Sand Storm

In the deep desert, the sands whipped, cutting through the air likes sharpened knives.

So thick was the sand cloud that it blotted out the sky, leaving no trace of horizon to the west. But in the center of the swirling mass of sands, a darker figure appeared.

Moving through with ease, the figure came closer to the edge of the storm. Cloaked, the figure came to the boarder of the storm and stood, as if no winds whip at all, just inside the curtain of sand; which ceased moving as the figure stopped.

From under their darkly veiled hood, staring of the storm as it raged about, the figure remained un-phased by its cutting sands.

Purposely, the figure moved out from the sands' curtain, into the clear air before it.

After watching and waiting for a time, the figure then raised their arms up and the storm sands grew into the sky even higher. Then with a quick motion, the figure dropped their arms down, and the sandstorm died out in unison.

From the dispersing sands, surrounding the cloaked figure by the thousands, emerged an great army. All clad in sandy coloured cloth, tightly wrapped around their bodies, the legions all swayed in the deadly silence of the brightly lit morning.

Their leader, still staring into the distance, pulled back the hood that hid them from sight. The bright blue hue of the man's eyes matched the azure of the sky. They pierced through the distance as he stared eastward.

A leather cloth still masked his mouth and nose from the arid desert air, but his eyes chowed the snarl upon his hidden lips.

Hatred seethed within the bright blue of his gaze, firmly set on the shimmering city that lay on the far horizon.

Silver towers reaching up to the sky, crowded by smaller buildings, all silver as well, stood out in the desert landscape like a shinning crown.

And the leader of the massive desert horde glared at it with all the furies of the sands, blowing within his eyes.

With a sudden flourish of his cloaked arms, he lifted them high above his darkly-haired head. The calm sands swirled up around the soldiers and they all disappeared within the storm once more.

As the curtain of sands grew to block out the western sky again, their leader pulled the dark hood back on; shrouding the bright blue of his eyes in shadow.

And when he was ready, the storm moved upon him, swallowed him whole, and covered everything in darkness.

Dark Reflection

His dark reflection in the window changed. He could see the features of his face move from shadow to light as the train moved through the tunnels.

At one moment it was the bright, friendly, familiar visage he saw day in, day out. But the next, it was distorted and strange; a frightening doppelganger of himself, staring back from the other side of the glass.

And as the reflection stared, an evil smile spread across its face; a grin that sent a chill down his spine.

For as the smile broadened and darkened, he recognized whom he was facing. It was the dark part of himself that he hid away. Every secret, lie, or malicious thought that he had buried deep within was staring back at him; staring with burning, black eyes. Terror filled him and he began to scream.

As his screams filled the subway car and I turned up the music in my headphones, I thought with a sigh; I knew I shouldn't have sat down next to this guy.

Oh well, only two more stops to go.

Ashes of War

“Come, oh ancient warrior once brave and bold,

dust off the gray ashes of war.

Arise to do battle once more,

for Evil has crept in and turned the world cold.”

Upon the high parapet of the black castle wall, a darkly cloaked figure stands looking over the devastation that lays on the fields below.

The broken bodies of thousands of soldiers that had crashed upon the black castle walls, like pounding ocean waves in vain, littering the scorched land in heaps. A cold wind whips over the dead, covering all in the dust and ash of the burnt forests that had surrounded the once lush landscape.

He looks upon the destruction and an evil smile comes to his bearded lips. His black crowned head tilts back as a chuckle spreads into a maleficent laugh that is carried across the battle field on the harsh wind.

Down on the ground, his mocking laugh echos as movement begins underneath the sea of dead. Slowly, an unnoticed hand rises from below and claws itself free. Gripping onto the arms and legs of the fallen, another hand emerges as they begin to pull their owner free.

Climbing out of the pile, seemingly awakened by the evil king's laughter, a lone warrior crawls to his knees and then stands atop the bodies that he had moments ago been buried beneath.

His hair matted and caked with dirt, sweat, and blood, the warrior stands and stares defiantly up at the lonely figure on the castle wall. The wind blows the ashes from his battered armor as his tattered red cloak flutters out beside him.

Catching sight of the small figure standing amongst his fallen enemies, the darkly crowned king cuts his cruel laughter and glares down at the fool that dares to still defy his mighty wrath.

The two stare at one another as the wind whips the flags that decorate the high walls that surround the castle's onyx keep; dark clouds move in to cover the evening skies.

Even though his own armies had been exhausted defeating the many peoples that had come to stand against him, the evil king felt secure in his fortress against this one, lone warrior whom had risen from the ashes. What was one more after all? He began to laugh once again, full with brash arrogance.

The warrior grips the hilt of his sword, sheathed at his waist; the leather creaking under his clenching hand.

“Come, fool!” the evil king calls down to him. “Come and I shall defeat you myself, so that you may join your pathetic comrades!” His teeth in bright contrast to his darkly bearded face as he throws his head back in laughter wildly once more.

Lightning streaks across the dark sky behind the dark-crowned king as his laughter taunts the warrior.

The warrior; cracking his own knowing smile as the black gates of the castle boom open to let him in. Into the lair of his enemy to do battle, one final time.

He smiles and thinks of the vengeance that would now be his. Thunder rumbles in the darkening sky as he begins to stride to the dark castle; to at last set the land free.

Future/Past

I wonder, if you could go back; back in time, and you meet your younger self and tell them everything you have learnt over the years; through lessons life has taught you; would it then cancel them all out?

For, if you had known how to avoid the troubles and tribulations that led you to learning those life lessons, would you know them to impart them, in the future, to your past self?

And if you did not know them and you could not impart them to yourself, then would you not fall prey to those bumps and bruises laying in wait along life's path once again?

Thus learning all those important lessons once more?

And knowing now what you had not known in then, would you go back and tell yourself all over again?

Hill Stones

In a lush, green, and rolling pasture a lone cow watched as it chewed lackadaisically.

The cow had never had much interest in the affairs of humans; besides the force behind the prod of a farm hand, or the hand temperature of the milk maid.

But as it watched, it grew mildly inquisitive.

For struggling mighty, two strapping men lumbered up the opposite slopes of two hills that rolled into one another. Both men pushing massive boulders, larger than themselves, away from each other.

Grunting and sweating, the two made slow progress up the hill sides, making only brief stops to rest against their respective stones.

Almost the entire morning it took them to labour up the hillsides. Usually the cow would have moved along to the fields on the other side of the hill to the west, to spend the rest of the day grazing in the warm afternoon sun. But it had decided to stay, eating and watching these two interesting humans in their odd tasks.

By noonday they had both reached the top of their hills and had steadied the boulders atop the level plateaus. They each slumped and sat against their boulders, huffing and puffing from their exertions.

After a moments rest, the man on the north hill stood and waved to his counterpart on the opposite hilltop, whom stood, waved back, and yelled something in response.

They then went around to the back of the heavy boulders, positioned their broad shoulders against the curve of the rocks, and yelled to each other loudly.

The cow, its cud chewing forgotten for the moment, stood and watched what happened next.

The two men, their arm and leg muscles straining underneath their simple leather hide outfits, pushed the great stones back down the hillsides they had spend the entire morning pushing them up.

Finally sending them off with great pushes, the men both fell to their knees with the force of their efforts, and watched with excited grins as the two boulders bounced and picked up speed as they careened down the hills towards each other.

All three spectators watched with anticipation as the massive round stones rolled ever faster down. Until, with a shattering crash, they smashed into each other in an explosion of stone chips and dust.

Shouting and cheering came from each of the men on the hilltops as they jumped up and danced jigs in celebration of their job well done. While the cow, only cocked its big head to the side inquisitively.

The pile of rubble from the collision lay scattered in small valley at the foot of the hills as the cow looked from the debris to the hooting and hollering men and back again.

Its cud chewing recommenced after sometime and it began to make its way towards the west side pastures. The bell fastened to the leather strap around its thick neck jiggling rhythmically as it sauntered along the cool grass.

the metal clanging pounded in its large head which was throbbing with a headache. A little from the effort of trying to figure out what the purpose of all that had just happened was; but mostly from the annoyance of having stayed to witness it.

How the human race had gotten the upper hand, the cow would never know.