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Deviant for 12 Years
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Literature
The Heartstone - Everyday Vignette #37
Father cleared his throat.
"Your mother came to see me."
I jerked my head up and looked at him. My dreams of the three of us supping, working, and living together rushed to mind, and I felt hope rise in my heart.
"Really?"
"Aye. She said we had a lot to talk about. That...she owed me an apology."
Father didn't seem very happy. I then realized that nothing in the house seemed different from when I'd left. No extra belongings, no sign of a third person in our home.
"And?"
"And, uh, it was good." He fidgeted. "It was good. We said many things that should have been said a long time ago."
"...She's not coming back, is she?"
My father looked at me, and I had my answer.
I said nothing as every vision that I'd nursed from childhood of a family reunited vanished into darkness. I'd dared to hope it could happen after Mother and I had spoken. But it wasn't enough. The tears, the apologies, all the words I'd kept buried for ten years...none of it was enough.
"She promised to visit often, though. A
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Literature
Fingers Lake
My grandfather told me never to go to Fingers Lake. Too many people had gone there only to vanish, and the ones who had returned always ended up going insane. Those few survivors came with stories of hands reaching out of the ground, grabbing ankles, and anguished voices on the wind whispering, "Save us, save us." That's why they called it Fingers Lake.
No one knew where the hands had come from. Some said that a serial killer had buried his victims there. Others claimed they were unlucky boaters that had drowned in the lake. All agreed that the hands were hauntings of some sort, and no one doubted the survivors' stories.
I lay awake many nights thinking about Fingers Lake. I had nightmares of reaching hands, tortured souls, and desperate whispers. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I went to Fingers Lake.
I slipped out in the dead of night and waited until dawn, when the hands were said to appear. As the first rays of sunlight shone through the clouds with a weak, pale light, they em
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Literature
A Cache for Arthur
Annie didn’t even like geocaching. She never complained, but Arthur knew that she wasn’t really into it. He was sure she would have been perfectly happy if Arthur had suddenly decided to abandon his hobby and stay home, but every time he reassured her he was ok with her staying behind, she told him she wanted to go. It was more about being with him, she said. And the closer Annie’s deployment date had become, the more they had craved time together.
Annie was right. They’d needed every moment that they’d spent together.
Afterward, Arthur had found himself thinking differently about geocaching. Before, he’d been doing it for fun, but now he did it for Annie. It was no longer about following coordinates, uncovering secret stashes, or going to interesting places. It was about doing something that he’d always done with Annie. It was about keeping that small part of her alive, and maybe keeping himself sane.
In April, Arthur found a note in Annie
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Literature
A Nightmare About My Daughter
Wow, that was a horrible dream. I've never dreamed anything like that before. Maybe I need to slow down on the Stephen King for a while. Or maybe not, because I gotta admit that dream will make a great story. Where'd I put my dream journal? Ah, there it is.
Now let's see....I'm standing outside a massive manor. It looks like the manor down on Peters Avenue, except there's a graveyard in front of it. It's a moonless night, completely dark except for a few lamps giving off a pale, weak light around the grounds. There is one tower lit up like a beacon, though, somewhere at the back of the manor.
Somehow, I know my daughter's in the tower and evil spirits are keeping her prisoner. They're all over the place in the manor, and more of them are inside the coffins in the graveyard, waiting to drag down anyone who passes through.
I have to save my daughter before they make her into one of them, but I only have an hour before midnight, which is when they kill her. So I start going through the gr
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Literature
Old Man Cummins' Cornfield
Old Man Cummins was the meanest man in all of Allen County. Everyone knew that when you drove past his farm, you just kept right on going. And if you had had the misfortune of a car breakdown in front of his property, God help you, because he’d be out there in two ticks with his shotgun and enough curses to make Jesus blush. Even the sheriff avoided Cummins’ farm as much as possible.
One night, I went out drinking with my best friend Abel. Abel insisted on driving us home, though he was in no condition to do so, and sure enough, he ran his truck off the road into Old Man Cummins’ cornfield. We got out of there as fast as we could before Old Man Cummins could show up and shoot us–and we were certain he would have done it.
The next morning, I had to drive past Cummins’ farm to make a delivery, and I saw the long line of crushed cornstalks that marked where Abel’s truck had plowed through the field. When I drove past Old Man Cummins’ house, I swea
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Literature
Belle of the Ball
It's even more glorious than I imagined. The music, the dancing, the attention...especially the attention. I always knew that I would make an impression, but anyone can tell who the star of the ball is here, and it's not Lady Stilaver. Ha. Her jealousy must be killing her.
Of course, Lady Stilaver doesn't have Rumian Peacock feathers and I do. Besides, they would look hideous on her. Frankly they'd look hideous on anyone else but me, which is just as it should be, because they're all mine.
That husband of mine never knew what was coming. I suppose it was better that way, because it would have pained me to see him suffer. It had to be done but I'm not cruel. It's not as though he'll be missed, though. I surely don't miss him. I doubt the other girls do.
Jasper, you old fool. You said I'd never be as resplendent as you, but look at me now. And in your feathers, too! I suppose it's a bit obscene, me wearing your plumage, but what else was I to do? You were already doome
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Literature
Fifteenth Birthday
Ever since I was a tyke, I've wanted to meet my father. I grew up hearing stories from Mother about him and his heroics. My favorite story is the one where he saved Mother from a Horrid Galumph, but maybe that's just because it's also the story of how Mother and Father met.
I've already been with Father on countless adventures in my daydreams. Together we've fought Burrogans, rescued villages, and gained the favor of the Greatest Dell Tavey. I've even fantasized about us outsmarting a whole swarm of Niblys. And all my life, I've wanted nothing more than to make those dreams real.
Mother is sure that Father is still alive. She believes he's a captive, or enthralled, or otherwise held against his will somewhere. The neighbors don't believe that. They think he abandoned us. They've never said it to Mother's face, of course, but I've heard them muttering and I've seen the way they look at us. I'm sure Mother knows what they think, too, but she's never lost hope. Even so, many nights I've h
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Literature
The Train to the Next City
Finally, some quiet. It was horrendously noisy with all those yammering mundanes around. It’s really too bad I can’t spend more time here now that it’s so pleasant, but I must be off to the next city. I don’t have much time.
I suppose I’ll have to decide what to do with that Gentleman. I could keep his essence in my handbag with the others, but I may need him later. Of course, he’ll need a bit of convincing, but I’m sure I’ll bring him around.
Here comes the train. Ugh, I can hear the dreadful din already. I must admit I enjoy silencing all those horrible voices. Shame I can’t keep them silent forever. But I suppose once I’m finished, it won’t matter anyway.
Only three more cities before I have all the essences I need. Hopefully I can keep any more Gentlemen off my course. If all goes well, I can have the whole province under my sway by Tuesday.
Then maybe I can finally break the curse.
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Literature
Bathelbart's Toys, Trinkets, and Sundry
Sir entered with a light step. Though he was the only one in the entire building, he felt it would be unsatisfactory to disturb the quiet. The silence would be broken soon enough, but for just a little longer, it should remain.
Sir ran a gloved finger over a tabletop as he entered the storeroom. He wrinkled his nose at the gray clump that appeared on his fingertip. Terribly unsatisfactory, all this dust. Sir did not envy the maid who would have to remove it all. As Sir picked the dust clump off his glove, he made a mental note to add a few extra coins to the maid’s salary this week.
Sir walked softly around the storeroom, inspecting the toys, masks, books, and trinkets scattered around. Thank heavens the bookkeeping had been meticulous, because taking inventory of all this would have taken months. That would have been rather unsatisfactory.
After a while, Sir heard a knock on the door. Ah, that would be Mackly, his new business partner. Well, the partnership was new. Mackly had b
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Literature
Marigolds are Edible
Marigolds are edible. Good in salads, too. You taught me that. I didn’t think you were the kind of person to know that, but you did. Then again, I didn’t think you were much of a salad person, either, but you make the best salads. Not just tasty, but pleasing to the eye as well. Maybe it’s because of the marigolds.
I miss your salad. I miss the orange stains on the cutting board. I miss picking up little pieces of marigold leaves off the kitchen floor. I miss the sight of you walking in with a fistful of blossoms.
I try not to think about the fact that I may never eat marigolds with you again. Sometimes, though, I can’t help it, and then I don’t want to look at the flowers. Once I was so angry that I almost ripped them all out. I’m glad I didn’t. I guess if I had, then I would have replanted them later. But I left the marigolds alone, and that’s more than I would have done last year.
When you do come home, if you come–no, when
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Literature
I Defy You
BEFORE
You tell me not to do it. You declare I can’t handle it, that I’m not old enough for the responsibility. You think you know me, don’t you? You think you’ve figured me all out, like one of your puzzle games. This is no game. You don’t have my pieces all nicely fitted together. How dare you! I’ll show you. You won’t stop me.
AFTER
I’m so sorry you were right oh what have I done so sorry so sorry
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Literature
Calm Down, Wark
“I don’t trust him, Aster.”
“Of course you don’t trust him, Wark. You don’t trust any other male.”
“His face looks creepy, and his armor’s too pointy.”
“For shame, Wark! He’s standing right here! Colin, I am so sorry.”
“It is all right.”
“Look, Spike—”
“His name is Colin–”
“–Don’t care. Spike, I’ll allow you to stick around for now. But I see you getting too friendly with Aster here? I’ll make you sing soprano in a breath’s time.”
“Wark!”
“Peace, Aster. I am not angered. Wark–”
“That’s Master Wark to you.”
“Master Wark, then. Allow me a question. Are you aware that Aster and I have known each other since children?”
“Excuse me?”
“It is true. Is is not, Aster?”
“Indeed it is.”
“And, Master Wark, are you also aware that it
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Literature
Healer - Everyday Vignette #35
1.
I am the Lady of Partha. Why have you summoned me? Yes, the stories are true. A single gaze into my eyes will heal most afflictions. You require my services, then? Your daughter? What will you give me in exchange? Hmm. Yes, those will do nicely. Take me to your daughter, and I shall heal her.
2.
I regret to say that I have bad news. Your daughter's illness has caused her to go blind. If she cannot look into my eyes, then the Charm will not work. You may have your memories back. I am sorry, but I cannot help you.
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Literature
Until Next Time - Everyday Vignette #34
One last look before I go. It's been lovely, but I'm ready to sleep in my own bed again. Ah, but someday I shall return. Earth has always been my favorite place to visit.
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Literature
Mulled Cider - Everyday Vignette #33
Ah! You look so cold! Come, let me make you a draught. Where's that cider I was heating?  Ah, here it is. Now, a bit of anise, a squeeze of orange, a few cloves, stirred 'round with a stick of cinnamon...and there. My special mulled cider for you. Let it steep for a few minutes, and then drink up, my friend.
Berries? For me? Oh, how delightful! I shall enjoy them with you as you sip your cider. Now, sit and tell me about your day. Your dear church pixie wants to hear all about it.
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Literature
Bribery - Everyday Vignette #32
"You find this sufficient motivation?"
"I do. I'm feeling quite motivated to fulfill your request."
"Good. And all shall be done exactly as we discussed?"
"To the letter. Your cargo shall be delivered at the place and hour we agreed upon."
"Very well. You know, I would be very disappointed if you were to change your mind."
"I won't. You may count on that."
"I am."
"Then we are done for tonight. I shall see you shortly."
"Indeed. I shall be waiting."
And then I was alone. I supressed a smile as I turned and walked away. I could hardly wait to see the look on Aedin's face when I told him what I'd done. This was a much easier way to rescue the prince than trying to storm the stronghold.
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Friends

I've been thinking lately. Agonizing, really. Agonizing over having too many hobbies & pursuits & not enough time to do or become good at anything. Feeling guilty & continually frustrated at the lack of time, & feeling foolish about promising myself & others that I would get back to it. (Looking at you, dA "updates" for the last two years.)

I realized that the only practical way for me to stop the guilt & frustration was to start choosing. Choosing what pursuits are closest to my heart, letting go of the pursuits that aren't so close, & then committing to those pursuits that make the cut. It's not easy to admit that one can't do it all. It's not easy to let go. But it's a necessary step, & in the end, I know I'll be happier with what I choose.

Confession: digital art & writing aren't that close to my heart. It's not that I don't enjoy them. Well, I don't even enjoy writing that much, to be perfectly honest--at least not longform writing. Flash fiction's fun, though. But I have other pursuits that I enjoy much more--gardening, building trails in parks, songwriting, & playing mountain dulcimer. Making cards would be a little farther down the list from those, but still above writing & digital art.

So I've made the choice to let go of writing & digital art. Or rather, to let go of agonizing over not writing & making digital art. That means that I probably won't be actively posting anymore on dA. I still very much enjoy the artwork of the artists I'm Watching, & I'll keep my dA account, at least for now, because I still want to follow those artists. And I'm sure every once in a blue moon I'll make a card or a piece of art I'll want to share here. But I'm not going to make any more promises of getting back to posting soon or worry about pursuits I can't make time for.

Thanks for the kind comments, the llamas, & every time you people out there noticed & liked my sporadic work. Keep creating. I'll be cheering you on.
  • Listening to: Gregorian chants
  • Drinking: water

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CelidahD's Profile Picture
CelidahD
K.R.
United States
Army Reserve wife. Creative. Daydreamer. Weirdo.

I will do slightly unethical things for coffee, chocolate, or a fruity wine.

No longer actively posting on dA, but still following my favorite artists.
Interests

Comments


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:iconiamthejam:
iamthejam Featured By Owner Mar 1, 2015
Thanks for the watch!
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:iconcelidahd:
CelidahD Featured By Owner Mar 1, 2015
Thumbs Up 
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:iconlordfell:
Lordfell Featured By Owner Jul 4, 2014
Thanks so much for the watch! You got some awesome crafts in your gallery!
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:iconcelidahd:
CelidahD Featured By Owner Jul 6, 2014
Well thank you! I'm quite fond of your comic The Wounded, and finally decided to watch you mostly to follow that, but also because your other work is fantastic, too. :D (Big Grin) 
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:iconbipolarnonsense:
BipolarNonsense Featured By Owner May 5, 2012  Professional General Artist
Hi!!! :wave: I've made a new account. :iconmukki-tadi:
Used to be *The-Artistic-A. :meow: I'll be transferring all of my art and making it my main account.
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